It's hard out there for a mutt

By Marc Ethier

Gather Correspondent

We’ve seen a lot of mangy mutts on this trip. Which of course have reminded us, one and all, of our mutt Kaya, waiting at home for our return. Poor Kaya!

Asia is chock full of Kayas – the yellow dogs, the universal mutts, packs of pariah mongrels roaming the streets, begging for handouts, chewing plastic. Garbage plunderers, scavengers – but, we can’t help thinking, deep down just like our poor skittish little cur waiting in Laramie, Wyoming for her surrogate parents.

Yes, we are softhearted saps. Which is why so many of these dogs over the course of our trip have gotten the better of us. All it takes is a pair of big, sad eyes and a happily wagging tail. Or tail stump.

Some dogs were beyond our aid, which didn’t make them beyond our charity. One dog in particular in Agra, I remember, was a pariah of pariahs: more armadillo than canine. Whatever it was growing in the leathery folds of that dog’s flanks, it wasn’t hair.

I bought Armadillo Dog a bag of chips, much to the amusement of the food vendor who sold it to me. But you can’t feed every stray, just as you can’t give to every beggar or talk to every loquacious local, as much as you might want to. You have to put the blinders on and keep walking.

I thought I’d learned pretty well how to do that, but then I met Crazy Dog.

There’s only one dog on the main drag of Thamel, Kathmandu’s fashionable district of high-end restaurants, bars, knock-off trekking gear shops and textile and souvenir outlets: the Crazy Dog. Something between a sheep dog and a German shepherd, Crazy Dog rules Thamel, apparently because he’s the toughest, smartest cur around.

I never saw another dog anywhere near Crazy Dog. He was unchallenged.

That wasn’t my first impression of the black-and-white, mangy mongrel. What first moved me to notice him was that he crawled across the pavement as if his back was broken, pulling himself forward pathetically by his front paws. The first time I saw this sad display I winced; the second time I resolved to give that poor dog some food. Unable to ambulate, he seemed doomed to starvation.

I bought a sausage roll (cost: $0.70 US) and laid it down in front of the wretched mutt. He grabbed the thing in his mouth and meekly turned, pulling himself feebly to a favorite spot where he slowly, painfully masticated the filo-covered meatstick.

I felt better about myself and walked around with a light heart all day.

The next day – we spent several in Kathmandu, staying near Thamel – I had occasion to pass this singularly cheerless spectacle again. As I neared the dog’s hangout I saw him loping athletically around on all fours, impaired by no apparent invalidity. He didn’t even have a limp.

I don’t think sausage rolls have miraculous curative powers. I think I was had.

I kept seeing this dog and never again did he appear paraplegic. Needless to say, I was impressed by his act, as good as any street tout’s, so I bought him another sausage roll. As I was about to feed it to him two men standing nearby exclaimed, direly, “Don’t pet this dog!”

“Why not?”

“This dog crazy. Crazy dog. Don’t touch. Keep away!”

“It’s OK. I gave him some food the other day and I was just going to – ”

“No! He crazy dog. Don’t go by him.”

I dropped the sausage roll. Crazy Dog sniffed it, grabbed it and casually sauntered a away.

He was not a poorly fed dog by appearances. I wondered how much he lived by his reputation, earning morsels from the shopowners of Thamel. Or from Western suckers.

Westerners are not the only softies. In Hat Yai, Thailand, on the border with Malaysia, we spent six hours on a train station platform watching a swollen-teated mama dog loop around looking hopelessly for scraps, apparently finding none. Finally we resolved to get involved. Just as Lisa returned with a piece of chicken a station attendant bent down and fed the sharp-ribbed cur his entire sandwich. He may have been just trying to impress some girls standing there, but hey. Everyone knows it’s hard out there for a mutt.

Marc and his wife, Lisa, sold their home outside Washington, D.C., quit their jobs and embarked on a yearlong world trip in September. They have visited Fiji, New Zealand, Australia, Southeast Asia and India and will continue through Europe to September 2007. You can find all of the Global Nomad articles at www.twoheadedturtle.gather.com. Read more about their adventures at www.2headedturtle.com.

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