Love the Chihuahua
As everyone knows, dogs seem to reflect their masters’ personalities. Likewise, the breeds invented by a nation say a lot about that nation. Germans bred the German shepherd and Rottweilers: smart, loyal, faithful (yet a little cold) and not the kind of dogs you want to piss off. The French created the poodle: all about style, yappy, not great fighters, yet not as dumb as they look. Canadians created the Labrador retriever: good hunters and friendly family dogs. Gringos seem to have adopted the pit bull as their national dog — both are reactive killers of children.
When I think of Mexican breeds, one type comes to mind: the Chihuahua, play toys for fresas like Paris Hilton. After thinking much harder, I thought of the Xoloitzcuintle: bald and edible. Are these dogs the best representatives of the national character of Mexico? Does a Chihuahua really fit a nation of macho men and feisty women? Or are you really a nation of perros electricos: scrappy little survivors in need of some updated marketing?
Dueño de un Perro Eléctrico
Dear Owner of an Electric Dog:
Tengo que take issue with your pit bull characterization. My chica caliente is the proud owner of one, and that dog is the kindest bitch around humans. (Dogs are another story.) With that in mind, I’d argue that pit bulls are the quintessential American dog. Wabs, negritos and gabachos alike own them for the same reason the world respects and fears Americans — a Manichaean innateness that loves and kills with equal ease. The difference in comportment is a reflection of the trainer, and the results show up quickly — just look at us after eight years of the Bush II administration.
Ahora, on to the Mexican dogs. Don’t give up so easily, Dueño: Mexico’s two indigenous breeds fully represent the Mexican soul. The American Kennel Club doesn’t recognize the Xoloitzcuintle (also known as the Mexican hairless), even though the noble critters date back millennia, much as Congress won’t recognize illegal Mexicans despite their many years working in the United States. Chihuahuas are even more quintessentially Mexican: Napoleonic in complex, clannish, usually brown but available in all colors, maligned by gabachos as puny runts but secretly ferocious and smart, and bearers of muchos babies. Some PC pendejos might cringe at the comparison, but, hey: better that the conversation deal with dogs than cockroaches, ¿qué no?
I’m a restaurant owner in Las Vegas. When a Mexican comes to apply for a job, why does he or she bring several friends and sometimes the entire family? And when I ask them for a call-back phone number, they get all paranoid and fumble through two or three phone numbers before they give the “right one.” Dude, I’m not asking for their Social Security number!
Chef Viva Las Vegas
Dude, the desert sun has cooked your brain into carne asada. Mexicans are bringing along friends and familia because they want you to give them jobs. That’s how so many Mexicans came here in the first place: Gabachos hired Mexicans, who knew other Mexicans and urged their bosses to hire them, who knew others, until one day, Americans needed to dial 1 for English. Trust those family-bringing Mexicans and make sure to put the smartest one in the head slot to whip his compas into shape. As for the carousel of phone numbers, there could be many answers. Maybe the Mexican in question is debating whether to give you a cell or a home number. Perhaps he or she just moved into town and honestly can’t remember a new número. But it’s probably just that the prospective employee is trying to remember which stolen identity he or she is using on that particular día.
Got a spicy question about Mexicans? Ask the Mexican at firstname.lastname@example.org. Letters will be edited for clarity, cabrones. And include a hilarious pseudonym, por favor, or we’ll make one up for you!