Restarting Life in Jamaica? Make Peace with the Stray Dogs

The Stray Dogs of Paradise

Sunshine and Dogs

If you’re returning to Jamaica, one of the first things you’ll notice—besides the heat slapping you in the face—is the stray dogs. At first, you won’t see them. Give it 30 minutes. Suddenly, they’re everywhere, like the real welcome committee for those restarting life in Jamaica.

These aren’t just any strays. Oh no. They’re the unofficial, underappreciated, four-legged ambassadors of the island. And they are everywhere. You’ll see them in every parish, standing at corners like seasoned hustlers, roaming in loose packs like they own the place (because, honestly, they kind of do). They’ve got a look— all looking like they share the same father. It’s like a dog family reunion that never ends.

A Dogs Struggle

You have to be prepared for the heartbreak of seeing them lifeless in the streets, especially after it rains. It’s a cruel mix of Jamaica’s creative driving “skills” and the fact that these dogs have mastered survival—except when faced with an impatient driver. And before we blame the potholes, let’s not kid ourselves. Those craters aren’t causing the problem; it’s the drivers who believe speed limits are a mere suggestion and purchased their drivers license.

Now, here’s the confusing part: some of these dogs look like they have owners. You’ll see them chilling in yards like they live there, guarding the perimeter. But the next minute, they’re roaming the streets, hustling for food. It’s like having a house but being homeless? It’s a strange relationship—owned, but not cared for.

Prepare to be Awake at 3 A.M.

And then, there’s the barking. My God, the barking. Day and night, like an eternal drumbeat of distress. These dogs are leading an island-wide protest, screaming into the void. Except the void is some poor soul’s backyard, and that “owner” has either reached an enlightened level of auditory numbness or is actually, medically deaf. There’s one dog in particular, as I type this, who has been barking all day every day for months. No breaks, no water breaks, no vocal rest—just sheer determination. I admire his hustle, but if he keeps this up, he might just bark himself into the afterlife.

It’s Not the Dogs Fault

So what’s the solution? Kennels? A dog sanctuary? With all the unused land in Jamaica, a dog shelter is possible.

Jokes aside, it’s a sad reality. These dogs deserve better. They deserve food, care, and a life where survival isn’t a daily gamble. And while this island is amazing—the landscape, the culture, the chaos—seeing these dogs struggle takes a little shine off paradise.

If only their barks could be translated into words—maybe someone would finally listen, because everyone’s business would be on front street.