One of the hardest things about extended travel is leaving pets behind. Kim Dinan captures this topic in her post, which is no doubt a lovely read, but I can’t tell you for sure because I couldn’t go any further than the title without choking on my own snotty howls.
When I left Melbourne for Thailand, I had to say bye to my
maladjusted gorgeous dog, Frida. This is her sweet face.
And this is her biting my partners head:
(He was giving her belly raspberries, so he kinda deserved it. I usually bite him when he does this to me too.)
Little Frida Kahlo DeRoche Alexis now lives with my parents. I miss her.
But in Thailand, we’ve managed to adopt a range of new pals. Travel advice warns that dogs in Thailand may carry rabies, so touching them is not a good idea. But with hundreds of happy, clean, healthy faces running around on the beach, it’s easy to ignore this overcautious advice and let a dog or two share your towel. (Plus, we paid $550 for rabies shots—we may as well get our money’s worth.)
Ivan has never been one for listening to good advice, so he picks up every passing Thai dog—small or large—and cradles them in his arms like he used to do with
our child our dog, Frida. I have to keep a watchful eye to make sure he doesn’t go in for a belly raspberry.
I won’t dare tell you about the time that he accidentally dropped a tiny chihuahua on the pavement when he was cradling it and it started biting him, triggering an angry outburst from the Thai owner. No, we won’t go there because that was just plain awkward. Especially the part after the lady finally calmed down, and Ivan said to her, “Don’t worry, I have a small dog at home and I accidentally drop her too sometimes.”
Anyway, here are some of our new friends:
A beagle knocked on my door the other day—Bam! Bam! Bam! I opened the door and in comes—
He heads straight for the bin.
He doesn’t even shut the door behind him.
(We must be related.)
And here’s the fattest dog in the Kingdom of Thailand:
Her name is Buddha (according to me).
Every evening, Buddha does the ‘beach buffet,’ which means traveling from restaurant to restaurant, accepting pity food from tourists. “Oh, look! She’s pregnant! We’d better feed her so she doesn’t die!”
I’m telling you—this dog has junk in her trunk. She. Is. Massivo.
When she’s not eating, she just sits in the sand panting from the great effort it takes her not to go into cardiac arrest.
Fat dog –> Normal dog.
I haven’t seen Buddha for a while …
Some more pals from around the island:
So to anyone who is sad to leave pets behind, don’t worry—you’ll get your furry fix. There are friends all over the world: big ones, small ones, cheeky ones, fat ones, bitey ones, and ones that eat coconut and then marinate themselves in mango. Delicious!