As his name implies, he spends most of his time on a roof. I first noticed Roof Dog from the balcony of my hostel room and thought he'd somehow become stuck on that roof. I was quite concerned. I sought out locals near the building, excitedly yelling "Perro! Perro!" and pointing skyward. I tried to throw half of an empanada on to the roof from the street. Finding only confused looks and angry accusations of littering, I returned to my balcony to contemplate the fate of Roof Dog and how I might free him from his lofty prison. It was only then I noticed the dog house.
Roof Dog was not trapped, he was home! Nobly watching the courtyard below, safely elevated from the dangerous life of a street dog, content in a place above the fray. While all others look dumbly at the street, it falls to Roof Dog to patrol the rooftops! Oh Roof Dog, may you honorably guard your raised domain for years to come.