Taxi Cabs, Tears and Puppy Love - The Curse of the Farewell

We all get our comfort from somewhere.

Today I did something that expats just do.

I said goodbye to someone I have grown to care about. A boy with whom I have been spending time who I care for deeply. The situation, to coin a phrase, sucked.

It was a strange weekend in Pokhara, that mix of happy and sad that can make you feel like you have truly lost your mind - everything is swirling and confusing and foggy. Add a bout of the flu and some afternoons of drinking into the mix and I had a recipe for an emotional meltdown.

Looks like I am good at following recipes. I got messy.

I caught the last flight of the day from Pokhara back to Kathmandu - a flight for which I had no reservation as I just didn’t go to my scheduled flight at noon. (I didn’t call or cancel or anything - as a former travel agent, this is unthinkable) but things are relaxed here in Nepal and this didn’t seem to be a problem. I was handed a boarding pass.

I checked in with literally one minute to spare, arriving for the 4:10 flight at 3:55, having dragged my sick, shaky body from the boy's arms moments earlier. I knew I may never see him again and yet I still walked out that door and down that street, deciding to just try to feel what was happening. (Turns out that this "feeling stuff" thing is terrible. I do not recommend it.)

This is Gertie immediately sitting down on my foot as I ordered coffee. Dog always has to be touchin' me.

I arrived less than an hour later to the domestic terminal in Kathmandu, notoriously the most scam-ridden place to catch a taxi in the whole city. Normally 300 rupees to my house would be fair, but the driver wanted me to pay 350 and concede to sharing with a stranger to Thamel, a stranger who would pay the same 350/400 rupee price and therefore double the driver's earnings in a really dishonest way. "No, dai." I said, "no sharing. Straight. Straight to Lazimpath." He argued with me gently, cajoling me and telling me "no problem, you have another come with, no problem."

I was hot. I was tired and sick and so, so heartbroken and angsty that I just literally burst into tears. My face exploded and I began to wail. The taxi driver looked horrified and deeply concerned.

"Ohhhh, ma'am. Ohhhh, Didi, what is wrong?" I did my best to reassure him that it had nothing to do with his negotiations, and that if he really wanted to, he could pick up one more passenger (although I dreaded the idea of small talk). He shook his head gently. "No, we go. We go straight Lazimpath."

The entire ride home I was texting and mewling and he finally looked at me, at the tears running pitifully down my face and dripping off of my nose, his face screwed up into a look of deep concern. ""Madam! What is ok? Why are you tearing?" I tried to tell him, and he seemed to understand, nodding knowingly. "You will miss your friend." He said. I nodded as I gulped back tears.

"Yes. I will miss my friend."

"Ke Garne?" He said sadly. (Nepali for a rhetorical "what to do?")

Best keg party ever.

I decided to go for a coffee rather than wait for Kalinka at my house in the quiet dark of loadshedding. I schlumped out of the cab and noticed that one of the street dogs, a squat guy I call "The Keg," was plunked on the steps. I sat down beside him and began to pat his head, his tail wagging happily as he licked my fingers and put his head in my lap.

I slightly closed my eyes as I let him just be nice to me - I needed something calm and sweet and gentle. A group of Nepali guys (who are always sitting right near where the dog is always sitting) looked at me, and they seemed like they were about to make small talk or jokes but something in their faces softened and they looked away.

 

Dirts McGerts. Her real name is "Choira" which in Nepali for "Brown." Nope. Changed.

My calm with The Keg was soon shattered. My favourite of all the street dogs in Kathmandu, a gal I call "Dirty Gertie" (for the fact she is FILTHY) galloped down the street and practically launched herself at me. She normally sees me every day and my six-day absence seemed to have upset her. The Nepali men began to laugh as I lavished both Gert and The Keg with ear rubs. "Oooohhh, she like you!" They exclaimed. 

“I know. I like her too.” I said in broken Nepali, and they laughed some more.

Within seconds The Keg had gingerly placed his paw on my lap, making a passive aggressive yet territorial move. Gert reared her head and stamped her paw on top of his and they began to literally fight over me on and around me. I jumped up and the men roared with laughter. I couldn't help but follow suit.

Gert is kind of pseudo-owned by the coffee shop, which is open air and doubles as an art gallery that plays good jazz and has fantastic espresso. She followed behind me like a shadow, and when I sat down in my usual chair she climbed up onto my lap like a baby and nuzzled her head so far into my armpit I think I was leaning on her face. She licked my fingers and face and made a “woo woo woo” sound that made me feel both incredibly cherished and horribly, horribly lonely at the same time.

 Lose a boy, gain a dog. Nepali math.

I cried. I sat there with that dog (who is NOT a small dog) in my arms and waited for my iced mocha and cried like a little girl who has lost the thing that she wants most in the world, waves of want and regret and just plain sadness washing over me. And Gertie made it feel better (even though I’m pretty sure they were playing John Tesh).

I have chosen this life. I have chosen a life that means I will constantly meet amazing people to whom I have to say goodbye. I attend leaving parties on a weekly basis. But yesterday I said goodbye to someone and it really mattered. Because he wasn’t simply a friend.

With Matt, Kelly, Gemma, Kalinka, Cass, Jess, Attiq, Romeo or the countless pals I have met on this journey and others – I KNOW I will see these people again. We’re travelers. When I next go to Rome or Stockholm or Capetown or Hong Kong or Sydney, I know that facebook will alert me that someone I know is in the same city and we will meet for beers and snacks and laugh like old friends. Because we are old friends, bonded by our nomadic ways.

But this is less simple. When you say goodbye to a person with whom you are romantically involved, there is always the chance you will never see them again. They could meet their future husband or wife – or you could - and even though you would love to just go and grab a Sapporo and some gyoza in an izakaya the next time you are both in Tokyo, it just wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be appropriate. And it could be very dangerous. So you just might never see them again. Fact.

This was an exchange I had with my best friend about it yesterday:

Me: Anyway, I said if he meets a Siberian princess I will understand.

        And then I will bottle her.

Christina: Like a true lady.

Me: I would never bottle anyone in a manner that was not ladylike.
Christina: It’s true. You’re a good Canadian girl.

So I am a little raw. A little vulnerable. I leave Nepal towards uncertainty next week and I have no idea what that will bring. I am torn about what to do with my beloved cats when I move to London. My stalker has chosen RIGHT NOW (as in, like, this very minute) as an appropriate time to message me and tell me his opinion on my last blog. I hit my head on the tuk tuk roof hard enough to leave a huge goose egg. Life is a mess. 

Violet. I have something very meaningful to tell you.

And that dog, that sweet, sweet Dirty Gertie, is like some chicken soup for my very fucked up soul. She’s beside me right now, looking at me with a mix of love and dumb and just dog.

A reminder that this is all going to be ok. It always is.

Ke Garne. 

Learning to Ride at Hearts and Tears Motorcycle Club

 Don't worry mum, we put on helmets when we left the training ground.

Readers will know that I have wanted to learn to ride a motorcycle for quite some time, but I have always been slightly afraid. Ever since an ill fated scooter attempt in Goa during which I nearly crashed into a cow and was almost side swiped by a tour bus I have been reluctant to get back in the saddle. 

When I learned about Hearts and Tears Motorcycle Club in Pokhara, that all changed. The owner, Matthew Gardner, claims to be able to take people from "zero to hero" in just a few short days, and he didn't seem even slightly put off by the fact that I don't know how to drive a car or have a license (bad Vancouver girl. Bad!). He was confident that he and seasoned instructor Fern Hume would be able to get me on a bike and onto the road in just two days - and they were right.

I have a little experience with sidecars...(and empties)

I booked the "Expat Weekend" which included one full day of instruction on a Yamaha RX135 and a trip through the mountains the following day. I was nervous - other than skateboarding and cycling, I have never operated a wheeled vehicle without a driving instructor sitting next to me with his own emergency steering wheel and panic break pedal. (Which he had to use. A lot.)

Oh, you pretty girls.... learning how to ride an Enfield is my next goal.

We met on Saturday morning - my birthday - at the shop, and were briefed on the schedule for the day. I was joined by my Kathmandu pal Benjamin, a pilot and novice to motorbikes himself. He had managed to recruit a third attendee, a gal named Katie whom he had met while climbing to the Peace Pagoda the day earlier. 

I wasn't sure what to expect and had fears that I would be thrown into the deep end right away, but Fern walked us through the bike and the theory of how to ride in a logical, step by step manner. Within an hour we were seated on bikes and learning how kick start, operate the clutch and work the revs. As we wheeled around the training ground slowly my confidence grew and I began to think I was a natural. 

This feeling did not last long. 

For my next feat...

I was the only one of the three students who did not know how to drive a car, and so the clutch and the gears were genuinely confounding for me. I stalled once, twice and then three times - this was enough to undermine my newly gained confidence. Remembering to let the clutch out slowly, change gears and rev the engine smoothly all at once, and having my hands do two different things at the same time? This started to confuse my tired, hot brain and I fell behind the others. As they zipped around the training grounds I began to regress, get stressed and stall, stall and stall again.

My nerves were not helped by the myriad pointing children and picnicking adults gathered around, staring and treating us like a sideshow attraction. After lunch Matt arrived and decided that Benjamin and Katie were ready for a spin on the local roads. Fern stuck with me, gave me a new bike with a less sensitive clutch and walked me through all of the skills we had been working on. With her kind, patient one-on-one attention I was back on track, and within 30 minutes I too was ready to get out of the park and onto the road. We cruised around the lake and my spirits were high and my confidence boosted.

The inspiring Fern, who rode from the UK to Nepal and plans to continue on to New Zealand. She's kind of my hero.

While on a thirty minute refresher on the busy Pokhara roads we learned how to navigate the Frogger-like traffic of Nepal (bus, child, goat, cow, cow, child, bus). Fern was impressed by our prowess - the hectic, chaotic nature of the streets didn't phase the three of us, as Ben and I are seasoned expats who know how to walk in the stuff, and Katie has been traveling in India for 5 months. We were all experienced with the strange, swaying nature of the traffic and the neccessary liberal use of the horn. Soon we were ready to set off into the mountain roads of Sarangkot to spend the day honing our skills on the bikes.

Matt led the way, followed by Katie (who, despite her complete lack of previous experience, was a complete natural and a babe to boot!), Benjamin and then me with Fern bringing up the rear. At first, Matt and Fern prompted us when to change gears, but before long it began to feel intuitive and I was zipping up into fourth on my own accord, overtaking buses and beeping my horn at children and dogs to shoo them out of the road. As we began to ascend into the hills, I practiced slowing down around hairpin corners revving like a madwoman to get up hills. I had a few stalls, but nothing too serious and though I was the slowest of the group, I managed to keep up quite nicely and maintain my speed.

 

You all know this was the best part of my day.

The only real complication of the day was a particularly brutal rocky off-road path that led up to our lunch stop, the idyllic Indreni Cottages. I stalled going up the treacherous terrain and couldn't pull off a hill start, but Fern was to the rescue and made sure my bike made it up the hill. After a visit with the dogs and (satanic) pet monkey and a delicious dal bhat, we were ready to get started on the descent back down into Pokhara.

This monkey actually wanted to see Matt's blood on its paws.

Downhill was definitely more of a challenge, as the dirt roads featured countless winding curves and gravelly scree that required concentration and lower speeds. Fern made sure that I was confident and safe at every stage along the way, and we made our way back down to Lakeside just as a huge thunder storm edged at the corners of the sky.

By the time the rain began to pelt down in earnest we were sitting back at the shop, safely under cover and downing Jack and cokes, discussing the day and beaming with pride at our newfound biker skills. To quote Fern, "when you are driving a car you are watching a  movie. When you are riding a bike you are in the movie." Amen.

Benjamin had no idea that his jacket announced that he was a "Pro Biker" and was mortified when I pointed it out to him.

Wearing a ridiculously huge jacket to protect my delicate skin (re: tattoos)

Learning to ride a motorcycle was one of the most fun decisions I have ever made, and I couldn't be happier that that I chose the folks at Hearts and Tears to teach me. In fact, I am so enamoured with the activity that Benjamin and I have planned a daytrip to Pharping this weekend - hopefully one of many to come. My ultimate goal? To get more confident riding bikes and set off on a loooooong solo journey. The 'stans? Russia? China? South America? On a bike, the sky is the limit.

Now to learn to drive a car. Sigh.

My Favourite Place in Kathmandu: Community Dog Welfare Kopan

I should have titled this entry "Bob Loblaw's Dog Blog"

Anyone who spends more than twenty minutes with me learns one thing: I love dogs. Some days as I walk the streets of Kathmandu I feel like I have hit the jackpot - so many street dogs to pet and hug! I am very careful; I have a surefire system (it is really just me asking "Are you a good dog? Are ya?") that involves a cautious approach and an analysis of how much bum-wiggling is occurring. A lot of bum-wiggling? Proceed. No bum-wiggling? Move on, sir.

While locals and expats alike look at me like I have lost my mind, I find that Nepali street dogs are generally really friendly and sweet. This just makes evolutionary sense - a nice dog has a higher chance of survival (gets fed, doesn't get killed for biting children) and therefore 'gentle dog genes' get passed down more often than 'aggressive dog genes.' 

While cruel abuse does occur, Nepalis are generally very kind to the street dogs, and the famous Newari love of meat means the dogs get a lot of scraps and bones. While there is still a stigma placed on "lowly" street dogs versus "highly desirable" and costly purebreds, the technically owner-less dogs of Kathmandu still often get some love and care from the neighbourhood softies.

Until they get sick. When a street dog contracts mange or any other contagious affliction they become pariahs, outcast by the folks who used to feed them. This is also sometimes the case with owned dogs who fall ill - people can barely afford their own medical treatment, and the notion of paying to heal a sick dog is not widely accepted. The pet that seemed cute and innocent as a puppy is now a burden and is exiled from the home. Sometimes it is a case of laziness and neglect, but often people just genuinely cannot afford to help their pet. I have deep empathy for what must be a tough decision to have to make under the duress of acute poverty.

This is when the wonderful people at Community Dog Care Kopan step in and help the countless needy dogs of Kathmandu. Longtime expats Kate and Doug Clendon (26 years in Nepal!) operate a shelter where sick dogs with seemingly insurmountable health problems are healed, loved and re-homed in the community. They even arrange international adoptions when visitors and expats fall in love with these amazingly resilient creatures.

I go up to the rescue every two weeks for an afternoon of dog-walking, puppy-socializing and laughter. It is truly the best part of my week and I look forward to each and every visit. Kate and Doug thank me profusely and provide a delicious lunch, but I feel like it is me who should be thanking them for letting me spend time with these guys! I genuinely believe that the dogs do more for me than I do for them, and I can't wait to see them again. *chest bursts with puppy love*

Left - severe mange and broken legs. Right - six weeks later and all healed!

Meet Maggie. The first week I went to the Rescue Maggie was nearly hairless, had two broken legs and was recovering from an abortion and spaying (she was too ill to carry her pups to term). When I posted the photo on the left on my facebook, a lot of my friends were worried she couldn't recover from this degree of mange, because we in the West often do not see such advanced cases of neglect and illness (there are much, much worse cases in Nepal). But look on the right! Same dog, only SIX WEEKS later! She is a firecracker and quickly went from sick patient to the boss of the house.

 Oh you had a baby? I guess that's nice, but it isn't this puppy, so....

This little babe was one of two pups who arrived last week, and sadly her brother passed away. She is adorable, and her little googly eyes make us think that she is part pug. In the top picture we had just swaddled her because it was getting cold and stormy, and it is so cute I think I might die.

   I want to borrow this dog the next time I have cramps.

Nothing is better than a hug from Jade. She feels like a hot water bottle, and looks like a Peruvian hairless temple dog.  Her mange is all cleared up, but it was so incredibly advanced that she suffered from permanent skin damage and her hair cannot grow back. We call her Baldy, but I think that offends her femininity, so I call her Princess Baldy.

Just a buncha bitches.

Some of the guys just relaxing in the shade after a nice long walk. Believe it or not, most of these dogs had advanced mange when they arrived, and many had broken limbs. The level of care and standards of the Shelter rival those in the West - these dogs are truly lucky. Some of them will be re-homed, but some will have to be re-released back to the neighbourhoods in which they were found - there is simply not enough space to wait until each dog is adopted.

 Big Red

Adopting shelter or street dogs is not yet a part of Nepali culture, but hopefully that will change! I mean, look at the story of Rikki - he had rickets and tetanus, but was successfully cured and adopted by a local Tibetan family who absolutely ADORE him. Kate is going to enter him and the gorgeous dog pictured above in the next dog show in Patan, under the "non-breed" category, and I think they will sweep the competition. More and more, Nepalis are learning to accept that street dogs are often better pets than the oft-inbred and costly pure breds imported from India and treated as status symbols for the rich. There is even a new campaign to "Adopt a Nepali Mixed Breed!" But seriously - just look at Red here. What a stunner - I call him Gorgeous George.

                                                                                        Unlikely friends!


This is Callie meeting a little calf. Callie has severe mange and malnutrition, but with good food, medicine and a lot of love and kindness he will recover and hopefully will look as lovely as Maggie. I took this picture two weeks ago, and he is already starting to look a lot better - he's still bald as a baby rat, but his sores are healed and he is gaining weight.  

It's kind of like Club Med for dogs. Club Pet? Club Well-Fed? (I'll stop now... Club Dogsled?)

Finally, here is the idyllic location of the Rescue, nestled in the valley below Kopan Hill (quite near to the monastery, but not affiliated). Here the dogs can bark and run around and no one complains. While Kate and Doug say they initially faced skepticism from the neighbours (and the occasional angry line of questioning about why they help dogs and not people) they are now a well-loved member of the community. They provide free sterilization, rabies vaccinations and medical treatment for the dogs nearby, so locals quickly saw the benefit of their programs. I am inspired and humbled by their work, and honoured to play even a miniscule role helping the dogs of Nepal.

While you are in Kathmandu I highly recommend taking the walk from Boudha and visiting Kate and Doug - and of course, all of the dogs! Who knows - you might run into me there, covered in dog slobber and happy as a clam.

 

You like me! You really, really like me!

For more information, or to donate or inquire about adopting or sponsoring a Kopan dog, please visit their website - http://www.communitydogwelfarekopan.org/how-you-can-help/

US$ 10 covers the cost of vaccination against distemper, hepatitis, parvo-virus, leptospirosis and para-influenza 

US$ 20 feeds a dog for one month 

US$ 50 pays for neutering a dogThanks guys! xoxoxVD

Kandy Land: The Three Temple Loop

 A rolling Buddha gathers no moss. (So not this one.)

 

Kandy is the cultural capital of Sri Lanka, and most visitors to the country choose to spend at least a few nights there, visiting the Temple of the Tooth (where it is alleged that one of the Buddha's teeth resides), taking in some Kandyan dance and making the day trip to Sigiria. As this was the final stop of my blissed out Christmas "escape from Kathmandu" we ended up booking four nights in order to be able to rest and relax, and so that I could have some quality time with my mum.

As a result, we had time to really soak in the ambiance and attractions that really make Kandy a special place - the Ceylon Tea Museum, Helga's Folly Hotel (one of the strangest places I have ever been - more on that another time), the Royal Botanical Gardens and the Three Temple Loop.

One morning we set out to do the 'Loop' - relishing the chance to get out into the countryside surrounding Kandy and explore some of the ancient Hindu and Buddhist temples nestled in the hills. Though some folks choose to do this as one long-ass walk, we hired a driver for the trip, and it was well worth the extra cost.

We visited three temples: Gadaladeniya, Lankatilaka and Embekke. Though ostensibly Hindu temples, each had a strong Buddhist presence (Hindus believe that the Buddha was the ninth incarnation of Vishnu, so he wasn't that out of place). Here are some of the most striking images of the day!

You go, girl.

A lotus flower pokes up out of a murky pond at Gadaladeniya, a temple built in 1344 on a rough shield of rock. Depending on who you ask, lotuses symbolize purity, overcoming challenges and/or enlightenment because they must fight their way through muck and yet they emerge a stunning flower. It was a lovely way to start the day.

 

  

Waterfight! Oh. No? That's offensive? Oh. 

After touring the interior of the shrine and circumambulating the stupa, I encountered these multi-coloured plastic vessels scattered about the backside of the temple. They are filled with the water that is used for Hindu puja (prayers), and they totally reminded me of a Fisher Price kitchen.

Best part m'day.

To be honest, this was probably my favourite part of the day. This little guy followed me around the temple grounds,  squeaking and tumbling and being the puppiest puppy ever. The old men at the temple tried to tell me to take him with me, and my mum was like "Do. Not. Tempt. Her."

Serious Business.

They kind of look like hipster ladies with stretched ears. Did I meet you guys in Portland?

A huge Buddha and sculpted apsaras at the Lankatilaka Temple. This was the largest of the three sites that we visited, a vast complex spread out on a hilltop overlooking the valley. Huge Sinhalese and Tamil inscriptions were painstakingly carved into the rock in the 14th century, and many stupas and buildings cover the grounds. There were also fantastic shops outside of the gates, and my mum bought some carvings from a local artisan.

 
Anyone have a bobbypin?

Dirty Dancing? Nobody puts Parvati in the corner! (sorry.)

The third temple on the loop is the most famous - Embekke Devalaya. This is the only site of the three that has no Buddhist presence, and is dedicated to Murugan, a Hindu god popular in the South - (I have always loved him because he rides a peacock. And he's green!) Murugan is Ganesha's brother and the son of Shiva and Parvati- that's a pretty kickass family tree. 

The temple is most famous for its Drumming Hall, a wooden structure that was painstakingly carved in the 14th century. Each ebony pillar is decorated with intricate carvings of animals, dancers and musicians - it was a whimsical place, and well worth the trip.

Kandy is one of those cities that people either love or hate, and I have a sneaking suspicion that those who dislike it are the ones who breeze through and don't give it a chance to charm them. So stay a few extra days - soak it all in, enjoy the art, and make sure you schedule some time for the three temple loop.

After all, you might meet this guy. Isn't that enough incentive?

Little Kandy dog. I'd name him Gum Drop. Or Sugarpie. Or Wayne.

Kitty Dharma

I had a lovely meditation with that guy on my lap.

I have just returned to the hectic and the crazy of Thamel in Kathmandu after month spent blissed out (and not so blissed out, but more on that later) at the Kopan monastery. I am about to go back beyond the gates tomorrow for a week long intensive Lam Rim meditation in pure silence, but before I do I wanted to write a little note to you guys to let you know I am alive and well (and a bit of a hippy. Even more than before. Sigh.)

You know, I have so much I could write and emote about. I could write about the massive realizations I had after meditating, the constant struggles to quiet my mind, my tug of war battle between attachment and aversion or the quest to forgive some people and let others go completely. Serious, heavy, life-altering blogging, people.

But instead I gunna write about kitties.

Listen, I promise that that other stuff is coming. I will write massive soliloquies about my experience, but I need some time to process it all and make sense of it, y'know? Find the right words. So in the meantime, here are some adorable cats at the monastery!

HEY GUYS I FOUND THE THING I LOST.

HHDL makes a cozy bed buddy.

Mahayana Buddhists believe that exposing animals to Dharma materials and teachings will help their chances at being reincarnated as a human, so cats and dogs are allowed to wander into the Gompa (a word that always reminds me of this) at will. This little grey cat never fails to curl up right here on the altar, at the righthand side of the Dalai Lama. Kitty friend knows what's up.

Greg!

I named this cat Greg, and normally he is a hot tamale, what with all the biting and snarling and hissing. However, on the night that this photo was taken, Greg was a total dreamy mushball and let me carry him around - and even zip him into my vest a bit - for over an hour! I was convinced that he loved me and we had a special bond, and I wrote a song about him, sung to the tune of "Fame," which had the lyrics, "Greg! You and me are gonna make it together, Greg! You and me will be just fi-i-ine. Greg! I really think we'll do it togeth-uh-uh, Greg! I think we're gonna make it this ti-i-ime."

Turns out Greg was super sick, and the reason he was nuzzling into me was because he was probably trying to kind of bury himself into my midsection, carve out a little grave and then die. When I realized this I spent 45 minutes looking frantically for the vet (one of the other 250 course participants), and then the cat, and then the vet again. It was harrowing, but turns out he just ate something bad and just had to poop a lot, and now Greg is totally fine. But still, Violet? The vest thing was an asshole move.

 

This post may be called Kitty Dharma, but there are a lot of dogs at Kopan too! This guy is named Lucky, and he sneaks into the Gompa and sits amongst the students whenever he can. I mostly love him because when he crosses his legs, they look like a heart. Best.

That's all for now, but I will write again next week when my week of silent meditation (no classes - whee!) has had a chance to solidify this whirling mass of Dharma and doubt in my brain - and in my heart.

xoxoVDear

A cartoon that I drew about Lucky.

Zen and the Art of Dog Walking, or "Our Time at Lanta Animal Welfare"

This little dude was a new arrival when we got there, and was sick. By the time we left he was healthy and happy.

A lot of backpackers arrive in Asia, see the poverty and dire conditions and want to volunteer. Unfortunately, most long term volunteering opportunities need to be sorted out well in advance and require minimum time commitments and even specialized knowledge/education. Not so with Lanta Animal Welfare.

Lanta Animal Welfare is run by a Californian born Norwegian woman named Junie who runs an extremely successful Thai fusion cooking school and

restaurant on Klong Dao Beach. After many years of living on Lanta she decided to do something to help the myriad stray, sick and injured dogs she saw running up and down the beach. She started a kennel and sterilization program with her own funds.

There is no veterinarian on the Ko Lanta, and so each time she comes across a sick or stray animal she or her volunteers (the amazing Adam and Carolyn) must transport them to Krabi (3 hours away) for treatment - but they do it with a smile! When asked how she manages to run a busy restaurant as well as helping all of these animals she replied with a shrug. “It has to be done!”

S and I just spent two weeks helping out, and in our time there we walked the dogs on the beach, spent time with them in the evenings (to give Junie and her other longterm volunteers a rest) and even helped to socialize Joey, the rescued pet monkey (if by socializing you mean letting him hump my head).

Junie's ambitious plans for the new year include building new spacious kennels allowing her to take on up to 50 dogs at a time, as well as hiring and boarding the island's first vet to look after them.

Junie is doing a great job but she needs help - if you want to help she would love donations and willing hands and even potential adoptees (you can take these animals back to your home country with relative ease – if you are interested be sure to ask!)

So get in there, enjoy the beauty and laid back attitude of Lanta and get your hands dirty. Junie, the dogs, cats and yes – Joey the monkey – would love to see you!

http://www.lantaanimalwelfare.com/start.htm

Mai Tai, always reaching through the cage. A sweet old lady.

I wanted to start off with this photo, even if it is a bit fuzzy - this is Mai Tai. She is an old lady, and just HATED it when she had to go back in after walkies. Junie used to have her out all of the time, but once she got 20 dogs it became impossible. Mai Tai is a darling. However, she knows how to get off of her leash and it can be a pain to tear off down the beach after her.....

From left: Belle, Lanta and Joey.

Oh Joey. Joey was in the process of humping Lanta's (the white dog) leg. Unlike Deng, Lanta really did seem to mind. The brown and white dear is Belle, and I think that that S and I want to bring her to Canada. (It is really easy to bring one to Canada!)

Zip was also the name of my childhood dog, so I am biased.

Kissy Kissy with Zip, one of my favourites. I really love this dog. She had a sense of humour, y'know what I mean? I love funny dogs.

Moments later she abruptly stood up, walking away from the confused kittens and sat on my lap to be petted.

The resident mummy cat (Junie rescued her with the kittens- she has since been spayed.) Want a sad story? A Swedish couple were staying here a month ago, fell in love with one of the kittens and went through the whole process of taking it to Phuket to get its shots and papers. At that point, an animal needs to remain in Thailand for 2 more months, get one more vet check and then they can be sent to Canada, no problems. They went home and begin counting down the days - and a few months before the date the kitten was run over by a Sea Gypsy on a fast motorbike. :(
It was named Lanta.

Ahhh! So many kitties! So many cute kitties! (I am kind of like Lenny with bunnies....)

The cat area - about nine of them live near the restaurant (so amazing, btw - the aesthetic alone is worth going for dranks.) I love nothing more than watching the sunset with an icy beer and having a little cat jump into my lap.

Joey, with his hands away from his genitals. A rare photo, ladies and gentlemen.

I wish I could say that Joey was a sweet little guy and we bonded, but it was more "Hey Joey, stop humping my head" or "Hey Joey, please take that wriggling frog you caught from out between your legs" or even "Ewww. Joey, no." He was found on the beach after he was attacked by dogs and Junie footed his vet bills - he has bad manners but I have been told he is a sweetheart. When he is not humping you.....

I started calling him Clint after a while - he reminds me of Clint Eastwood in "Gran Torino"

Red is a grumpy old man, a curmudgeon of a dog with a missing ear. He reminds me of the old man in "Up!" but he does have a good heart - he LOVES Junie (they all do.)

Look at that handsome man! S isn't bad either.....

Sean walking Bubble, the most difficult of all of the dogs. I maintain that Bub would be a great dog with a little personal TLC and a stable forever family, but in the meantime he can tire out even the strongest forearms.

She has a pretty severe medical issue (involving enemas) otherwise I would adopt her. Sweetie.

Sara is sweet lady, missing her tail. She hated going back in - the minute I would turn around on the beach and start heading in she planted her little feet and said "Uh Uh." I had to run and act like a giddy fool to get her moving again.

The Doodler.

Noodle (Noodler, Noodley Doodley, Noody) has a nervous disposition and stays up on these stairs a lot of the time to avoid the other dogs.

Did not matter where I stood, this dog muddied my shins.

Owen, a nice guy with a love of kicking his feet behind him and spraying you with mud, dust, sand, dirt, water - whatever was on hand. It didn't matter what direction you moved to, he could sense it and would re-direct his kicks. I tried to get Sean to take him after a while....

He looks so noble staring at the sea.

Long, Zip's cage mate. Long has a heartworm and the vet has determined that surgery would be really risky, so he is living out his days here at Lanta Animal Welfare. It's really sad, because he is sweet guy, and he and Zip are so happy playing together.

Doggie Deck is a sweet guy.

Doggie aka Doggie Deck aka Deck Dog. Doggie has a wonky eye as a result of a fight, and lives upstairs (hence the deck part of his name.) He was incredibly sweet but also a real pain as he loved to flop down in the grass or sand and refuse to get up. Such cheek!

Oh Pooey, you got the shittiest name.....

Pooey. He was really sweet and slow and I always walked him first, so it was a nice start to the dog walkin' time. A really really nice dog.

I was like "Leg? Are you sure there isn't something wrong with his head?" I kid because I love.

Deng Deng. I assumed that Deng's strange sideways shuffle was due to hip dysplasia, and so did Junie. That was before the vet in Phuket did an x-ray and determined that Deng has been shot and there is a bullet lodged in his leg. That does not keep him from tearing after you at the strangest times and once catching up, grooming your legs or the dog you're walking or the monkey. He's a strange guy.

S's loving display: brought to you by Archa Beer.

Sean showing Lanta some love. She is a genuinely awesome dog - anyone would be lucky to have her as a pet. She doesn't lurve cats, so Sean and I cannot adopt her.... but maybe you can?

Hey you! Bye!