“Sato “is slang for street dog.

 In March, I received a call from Bill Smith of 1Love4animals asking if I wanted to go to Puerto Rico to photograph a spay & neuter clinic conducted by The Sato Project. I accepted the assignment without hesitation.

I would be accompanied by Cathy Capone of Square Dog Ranch, who had traveled to several far-flung locations for Bill on animal rescue missions due to war or natural disasters. Her love for animals, knowledge of canine behavior, and willingness to assist in any endeavor would prove invaluable in the following days.

Average life span of a street dog is one and a half years.

The Sato Project’s mission is to rescue abused and abandoned dogs roaming the streets and beaches of Puerto Rico. The number of strays on the island is estimated to be over 500,000, highlighting the acute need for spaying and neutering. The Sato Project has spayed/neutered, and vaccinated 8,000 dogs and cats, flown 7,150 dogs to new homes, and reunited over 230 animals with their owners after natural disasters.

Pets and owners waiting for the clinic to open.

Sato is slang for small street dogs with long, pointy ears.

The three-day spay & neuter clinic was held in the town of Naguabo and was free to residents. When Cathy and I arrived at 7:30 am there was already a long line of people with their pets waiting for the doors to open. After a brief orientation, we were introduced to Chrissy Beckles, founder and President of the Sato Project. Her only request to me was to not show dogs fully sedated. Cathy was assigned to move dogs to recovery after surgery. Staffed by volunteers from Luna Vet Help, surgeries began with each dog receiving a spay/neuter, vaccination, and a microchip. Working fourteen-hour days, over the three-day clinic, 300 surgeries were performed.

Chrissy Beckles, founder & President of The Sato Project

Adriana Luna of Luna Vet Help.

Documenting the clinic was only one facet of our assignment. We were also asked to drive around the town in search of street dogs and to stop by Dead Dog Beach, where unwanted dogs were abandoned. Staff at the clinic suggested that they might be found in cemeteries or the town dump.  

Pair of street dogs.

Pack of street dogs.

While there was ample photo fodder at the clinic, I was less confident about setting off into an unknown landscape and locating strays. This is where Cathy’s knowledge and experience made all the difference. She had us stop at a grocery store to buy a large bag of dog food. When driving along, if we spotted a stray, we’d pull over, and she’d get out and pour some dog food on the ground, then back away. The dog would come over and start to eat, allowing me to get into position, check my settings, and take some photographs. More often than not, more dogs would emerge out of the bushes, sometimes too many, and we’d jump back in the car with the dogs following us and barking as we drove away.

Dog at the cemetery.

Cathy feeding the cemetery dog.

We made our way to Dead Dog Beach, expecting to find canine carnage and packs of emaciated canines, but that was not the case. Thanks to the efforts of rescues like the Sato Project, we saw only one dog on the beach, and it had a collar, meaning it was someone’s pet. Next, we headed to the local cemetery, where we found only one little dog sleeping in the shade. We assumed if there were other dogs, they were in hiding to avoid the mid-day heat. We had one more shot before it got dark: the town dump. Our efforts were thwarted once again as the gate to the dump was closed. 

As we made our way back down the narrow, winding road, Cathy shouted for me to pull over. When I asked her why, she said, “See that white bucket?”” Yes,” I replied, “What of it, we’re at a dump!” She then told me that people put out buckets of water for the dogs, and she wanted to check it out. Getting out of the car and grabbing the bag of dog food, she made her way back to where the bucket was, climbed up the embankment, and disappeared into the bushes.

Large black dog at the dump.

I was uncomfortable leaving the car as I was parked on a curve on a very narrow road. A few moments later, I get a text from Cathy, “Come quick and bring your camera.” Cathy emerges from the bushes, telling me several dogs are lying in wooden lean-to’s that someone had built for them. I wasn’t too keen on climbing up an embankment or crawling through bushes to meet dogs of unknown temperament, and in the dark, but that’s what I was there for. I had only bushwhacked a few yards when I heard a low growl, stopping me in my tracks. Glancing off to my left I see a huge black dog looking back at me. I made a hasty retreat back down the embankment. Cathy poured some dog food by the side of the road and we both moved several yards away and waited. A few minutes later the large black dog came into view and began to eat and I took photos. As I had feared another car entered the curve. I could see the driver was looking at Cathy and the dog and not at the road or the car we had parked but at the last second, he swerved avoiding a collision.

Having done our best, Cathy and I returned to our hotel for dinner and a good night’s rest. The next morning, we’d be heading to Old San Juan in search of feral cats. I’ll save Old San Juan for another post.