This morning I went for an early walk on the beach. It has to be early for a redhead or I’d come back crispy fried.
The Bali dogs are a signature of any outing around here, but the beach dogs are something special.
To watch a dog decide to hit the waves, cavort and swoon and thrill then run back onto the sand with a massive toothy grin is to witness the meaning of happy.
Release. Own. Be thankful.
But on this particular beach, on this particular morning, I found out why so many of them are so stoked to be alive – and healthy.
I met a beautiful lean blond Canadian girl standing around with a wee puppy on a rope leash. The puppy was shivering and shaking and lying prone on the sand, while she stood serenely.
Turns out she has a whole Bali movement to take care of the dogs; she is literally a DOGGESS.
She was working with the wee girl to get her used to a lead, to grow trust. The aim is adoption, especially for the puppies that don’t look like they’ll survive on their own wits, so an understanding of social manners is important.
While we were talking, some foreigners walked by with a poodle, a Labrador and a shaved chowchow. The street dogs went ape shit.
“They don’t understand the domestic pet,” my DOGGESS friend said calmly, as the dogs established the pecking order.
With that many homeless dogs in Bali, I have a hard time reconciling to the need for a shaved chowchow myself.