Being the dog lovers that we are, we have been carefully observing the antics of the dogs of Thailand. We got a great shot of a splendid black dog in Patong yesterday, who was flaked out on the sidewalk, and didn't stir once as I snapped his photo. Then there was a mother dog - who looked like a big Jack Russell - who ambled across the road like she wasn't taking her life in her paws while cars, tuks tuks and motorbikes were whizzing up and down the street in both directions.
Today on the way to our Elephant Safari in the jungle somewhere past Karon Beach, I noted DOGS DO WHAT THEY LIKE. They are sometimes near people, but they're not involved with people. They trot up and down the streets, cross the roads, kind of hang out together, sunbake like they are in a coma and basically run their own lives. None of them are fat - none look like their Nanny has jammed a chunk of cake in their mouths. They are everywhere, and yet they are no one.
They definitely lack the joyousness I accredit Australian dogs with. There's no happiness, no jumping, no excitement, no barking. They are here, they are living, and they are getting on with whatever the heck they fancy. I haven't stopped to talk to any of the dogs, or pat them, and I guess they don't speak English anyway. But if I did, I wonder if they'd even respond? It's like they are ghosts here. Or something.
Living here would be bad for me. I'd be running a dog holiday camp where they come to have fun. I'd have chew toys and big lounges and snackies. I'd give them baths and wrastle the towel with them to get them dry. Maybe that would cheer them up a bit.
I once heard someone say all dogs have a collective soul. These dogs, they don't share the same soul as Derek. He's got an Aussie soul. These dogs clearly have a foreign one. Thai, no doubt.
No comments:
Post a Comment