Like our very own city, Dunedin, Florida, has bountiful wildlife, writes Gillian Thomas in the final part of her three-part travel series.
Dunedin bountiful wildlife has me tuned to birdspotting now and I am drawn to a papier-maché shorebird in the window of a downtown art gallery. Its feathers are made out of a world map and it's titled Frequent Flyer.
In Dunedin, creativity is everywhere I turn. Little Free Libraries roost on posts out in the street (my husband Richard refers to them as a ''library on a stick''), cycles are parked in racks that have been fashioned by local sculptors, nostalgic railway insignia frames the Pinellas cycle track, hand-decorated signs point in all directions, painted oranges continue to surprise ... and you simply can't ignore the immortalised canines - ''Welcome to Dogedin''.
Wrapped around two exterior walls of Skip's Bar, Dogedin is a study of mutts.
Dunedin artist Anna Hamilton originally set out to paint a mural featuring about 50 dogs, but it became so much more than that: it became the expression of people's love for their dogs.
Dogedin now features more than 400 portraits of dogs, each named after someone's pet. Sixty to 70% of the portraits are memorials but, as the artist says, eventually they all will be.
When Anna started painting Dogedin, she discovered that through her art she was taking on the mantle of grief therapist.
''What I found was that people were coming and wanting to tell me stories about their animals, and it made them feel better to talk about it.
"It wasn't just a mural and these weren't just pictures of dogs. I wasn't just painting, but I was helping people heal from their losses and move forward in their lives.''
Dogedin became a springboard for Murals for Mutts, ''Saving pets one brushstroke at a time''. Since 2010, the organisation has raised money for animal welfare by painting dog walls in other communities. Pet lovers pay $75 to $200 for a portrait.
Somehow I'm not surprised that Dunedin became the first community with a dog wall. I'd already met Jeanette who proudly showed me her dogs' portraits tattooed on her stomach: ''Mojo and Oskar are my world.''
Out on the street, I'd met Chelsea, the poodle, whose owner walks her in a sun-protected pushchair. I took Chelsea's photo and decided to let her keep her sunglasses on, they just added that je ne sais quoi.
Mr Winston has hired help to take him for a walk. He knows he has to behave because his dog walker is required to write up a report on his activities.
''Today Mr Winston pooped/didn't poop; had no energy/had normal energy ...''
Mr Winston is the beloved pooch of Sherry-lee, who we've been staying with in Dunedin. Sherry-lee produces a photo: it's the spitting image of Mr Winston.
''For two years, I carried around this photo and people would ask, 'Is that your dog'. I always said 'yes, but I just haven't found him yet'.''
Sherry-lee had applied to the French Bulldog Rescue Association wanting to adopt. Two years later, they made contact. A French bulldog had been found in Detroit, trapped in a bathroom in a deserted apartment building.
He weighed just 3.5kg. A request went out to members of the rescue association for help transporting the dog to Florida.
Five volunteers were able to relay him to a point far enough south for Sherry-lee to arrange collection. Three years later, he weighs 15kg and is doted on his owner. The sentiment is entirely mutual.
''Rescue dogs love you bigger,'' say Sherry-lee.
''They love you more. It doesn't matter if I've got my make-up on or not, my dog loves me religious every day. When I broke my arm, he lay down and didn't leave my side for 24 hours. He didn't take water, he didn't pee.
"Now what kind of human being would do that?''
Sherry-lee then hands me what looks remarkably like a copy of the New Yorker magazine, but no, it's The New Barker, another pet-lover's initiative inspired by a Dunedinite.
Anna Cook publishes ''Florida's top dog-lifestyle magazine'' that reaches 30,000 dog lovers quarterly.
Billed as ''The art, entertainment and lifestyle journal for Florida's hip canine culture'', The New Barker will tell you ''where to dine, play, stay and have fun with your dog in Florida''.
Volunteers distribute copies to willing retail outlets, which donate the purchase price of $US4.50 to the animal rescue organisation of their choice.
I'm thinking the Dunedin dog rescue organisation has got to be the most well-heeled in the state.
A patron at Skip's Bar sums up the city's pulse.
''We don't want to see any animal killed or euthanised if it could be placed in a home, so we support all the animal rescue organisations.
"Listen, you don't have to go too far north of here to find people who are like Kentucky folk: they kill things. Dunedin is a no-kill zone.''
Dunedin, Florida, has many faces, all welcoming. We stayed just four days and barely scratched the surface.
I didn't count the art galleries and haven't mentioned the Dunedin Fine Arts Centre, the new Institute for Creative Arts or the working artist's co-op.
City Hall's website says, ''The arts are to Dunedin ... as jelly is to peanut butter ... We're a city in love with the arts ... we're just not all stuffy about it.''
Dunedin's a community with great energy and spirit, fired by an enduring volunteer ethic. It has a friendly neighbourhood feel. Word travels fast around town.
When we walked into the Chic a Boom Room, the bar erupted, ''It's the New Zealanders!''
I found Dunedin's fabulous farmers market; I found an Octagon (it was a house with an eight-sided roof); I even found an artist from Otago Peninsula whose work was for sale in a local gallery.
Elizabeth Mitchell now lives in Tampa but she still sells her art in Dunedin. I found the Celtic Shop. Lynn the owner regales me with a story about an email she received from a desperate tourist.
''Where are you? I've walked the streets and looked everywhere and the Dunedin Visitors' Information Centre says they've never heard of you!'' Lynn gave her the only direction she could.
''Take a flight to Florida.''
I read a letter to the editor in the Dunedin Beacon.
''The City of Dunedin should not be subsidising a new Blue Jays stadium ... if the teams can pay their players such high salaries they can pay for their own multi-million-dollar stadiums''.
Are some things universal, or is that a familiar Scottish trait that's embedded in the city's genes?
As for hospitality, the local brew runneth over. Lisa, our personal tour guide, and her family, are now lifelong friends.
I'm telling her daughter Gina to check the Study Abroad options at the University of Otago. And Lisa has to come south and photograph our penguins and albatross.
I'm volunteering to be their Dunedin ambassador.
Sherry-lee must come and look at our historic buildings: she's an expert in gentrification.
I've offered to walk Mr Winston and document his movements.
Dunedin's mayor said there's never been any official communication between our two cities.
Maybe the time is ripe. Mike Dunlap, the founder of the New World Celts, offered Richard and I ''Cead Mile Failte'' - a hundred thousand welcomes.
We felt the warmth of them all.
