Angela Killian

For the past few weeks I have been running 3 miles per day. Actually, “running” isn’t the right terminology because it’s more like a power walk, sprint, lunge, stretch combo. I start at my house and make a loop through the national park / beach and back around through my village. There’s a 7-11 near the end where I stop off for a Singha brand soda water (it’s far superior to Chang). It’s 9 baht and I use my 1 baht change to weigh myself at the scale in front of 7-11. The whole routine has done wonders for my physique and emotional state of being.

There are always a few dangers associated with running outside in Thailand. I quickly overcame my fear of the ruthless drivers and uneven terrain, but never managed to get over the street dogs. According to some bogus online statistic I read prior to moving here, the mosquito is the #1 danger in Thailand and rabid street dogs are #2.

So, on my daily run I avoid the street dogs at all costs. My usual technique is to remove one headphone to listen for barking and / or chasing noises and to put my sunglasses on my head so the dog can see my eyes. For some reason the dogs tend to bark more when they can’t see your eyes. There are certain points in the run where evil dogs are unavoidable and aforementioned techniques don’t work to hinder the dogs’ instincts to kill. I have those parts of the trek memorized. At those times my only method of coping is to cross over to the other side of the street away from the evil dog to avoid the dramatic catastrophe, which has hypothetically played over and over in my head, from happening.

This week while running the last half mile stretch to my house, I noticed a new street dog. He was lying in a hole that he had most likely dug himself (as Thai dogs tend to do to escape the heat) and looked up at me with vigilance as I ran near him. He was raven black, lean, stoic and had kind of sad, yet piercing amber eyes. I practiced the latter routine to avoid him and continued my path home. I stopped to stretch and noticed the same raven dog trotting behind me. He didn’t appear to be chasing me in a malicious way, so I put my hand out to test the waters. He immediately let me pet him, but continued walking ahead of me as if to say, “c’mon, let’s go”.

I assumed he either must belong to someone or be a very talented tramp because his fur was immaculate and void of any mange or cuts. Saliva was dripping from his mouth as he jogged along and I knew he must be thirsty. The only source of water in the area aside from the ocean is a dirty stream where locals throw their trash and ironically go fishing. He kept looking over at the dirty stream as the water trickled through the plants and finally deciding to go for it. He walked into the water and submerged his whole body while taking a few drinks Based on his reaction, the water wasn’t tasty. I watched him this whole time hoping that he would continue on home with me, where I was already planning to give him unlimited water, food and snuggles in return for him staying with me.

Naturally, he would be an outside dog. That is, until I could give him a proper bath and eventually he would be the keeper of my house and take to sleeping on the furniture and even in the bed, if Joe would allow it. If Joe would not allow it, I would settle for a dog pallet next to my side of the bed. He would be part of my family and keep me company during the long days. Joe and I would buy him a collar and take him with us on all of our adventures. He would be the happiest dog in all of Thailand, I daydreamed.

I grew anxious as we approached the part in my path where a group of evil dogs live. They hate people and I knew they wouldn’t be kind to out-of-town dogs either. The alpha male ran after us and the raven dog let him get a sniff. The scruffy alpha male decided the out-of-towner was okay and allowed us to continue on our way. I was impressed because it took that mangy alpha male dog MONTHS to stop furiously barking at me.

We finally arrived at my house and the raven dog immediately tried to follow me inside. This wasn’t his first BBQ, but I didn’t mind being taken advantage of. I made him wait outside while I fetched some dog treats and water (yes, I keep dog treats in the house despite not having a dog because I’m pathetic and always looking for ways to make cute dogs hang around the house). He didn’t eat them at first, but changed his mind after I broke them up into small pieces. After checking out my yard, he attempted to dig a hole in my garden and lie down in the shade.

My heart was full of joy to have a magnificent dog in my presence so I sat outside with him for a while. Before retreating to my house I considered closing the gate to my yard so that my new friend wouldn’t escape, but I did the opposite. I didn’t want to hold such a free creature against his will. He would stay only if he wanted to.

He was uncivilized and wild, as I imagine dogs are supposed to be. Kind and gentle, he never barked or showed aggressive behavior. He was determined, yet calm and totally present in the moment. He was comfortable with me, but not dependent like domesticated dogs are. We were equals and he belonged to no one. He had a lean, strong body and big feet. I knew he was a traveler.

I decided to call him Edgar (as in Poe) because of his raven fur, stoic looks and sad amber eyes.

Like a new mom, I opened the front door far-too-periodically to see if he was still outside. He always was. I brought him some of the chicken I had made hoping to coax him into staying forever. Feeling as if I was coming on strong, I began to relinquish my thoughts of him being so involved with me and Joe. If he didn’t want to be an inside house dog, I was okay with that too. He could be free during the day and sleep at my house at night. “I’ll feed him, play with him and take him to the beach”, I thought.

In the afternoon when he was still sleeping in the shade, I went outside to file my nails. Edgar was curious and came over to investigate what I was doing. He didn’t understand anything I said to him (he might’ve understood Thai or Burmese), but he knew my tone of voice and intention. When I smiled at him, he smiled back.

Joe and I went to the beach when he got off work and I tried to lure Edgar into the backseat to join. He had never been in a car before and looked at me as if I was crazy. The car engine starting startled him a bit and he walked back into the yard to continue hanging out in the make-shift dog hole he had created. When we returned from the beach after sunset Edgar was gone.

I thought about where he went to next and what he was doing. No doubt he would find other animal lovers to feed and water him. Edgar didn’t have a pack to run with nor did he need one; he was all alone on his own journey. “What a powerful, beautiful dog”, I thought. He didn’t allow my plans for keeping him to myself stop him from his pilgrimage He chose freedom and adventure.

Like people, some animals are not meant to be tamed. Welcome them into your life, enjoy them, learn from them and set them free.