Of the nine medium-sized to big cities where I’ve lived, and countless others I’ve visited, three stand out as places where dogs are pretty central to the people and their lifestyle, and subsequently to the overall vibe of the city. Not coincidentally, these are the places I’ve felt most comfortable. This occurred to me today as I stood in downtown San Francisco watching a couple walk by with their long-haired Dachshund trucking along with his back paws in a “mobility cart.”

Now, San Francisco is not the only place where dog owners spend the time and money to fit a disabled canine with these little specialized carts, but here, nobody really thinks twice about it. Having lived inside and outside the U.S. in places where a paralyzed pet would be “put down,” it was nice to see this lively little guy able to take a brisk walk in what had to be a pricey doggie wheelchair. As I learned in years past from my own Zoom the 3-legged Wonder Dog, disabled dogs are the exact same as regular dogs, just with a more interesting past. And for that reason, they tend to make really good buddies.

After I saw him, I rode the BART train home with a cute shaggy Weston terrier named Marcona (with her owner Natalie) …



When I first moved to New Orleans in 1993, I immediately gravitated to the “dog levee,” the grassy hill boundary of the Mississippi River at the end of Magazine Street. I chose to live near that levee exclusively and went there all the time with a rotating cast of foster and permanent dogs. New Orleans has tons of other dog parks too, plus public dog bowls, and dog-friendly bars, and restaurants that have outdoor tables and waiters who will sneak your buddy some treats from the kitchen.



Buenos Aires was the best dog city I’ve ever encountered — leash laws are minimal, because the dogs in this culture really tend to not need them. Dogs trot along right next to owners, no restraint in place, and never stop to sniff or veer or chase something across the street or bark at other dogs. When the owner goes into a supermarket or restaurant or bar, the dog plunks itself at the entrance next to several other dogs, all untethered, and wait patiently there. No dog fights, no crazy sniffing, no running off.

Tons of dog owners there hire pasea perros, dog walkers who come by, pick up your dog and several others, and walk them for hours through the streets and leafy sidewalks, often stopping to siesta for a while under a shade tree in one of the city’s big parks. You see pasea perros everywhere around Buenos Aires.

Dog town = good mojo.