I learned a
lot from living in Bangkok for a few years and yet it wasn’t so much about
people. I learned about dogs and The Wolf as ‘the great beginner of dogs’.
True, Thais
do have a most remarkable culture and history that is rich and complex, and
from this complexity, and indeed humanity, the Soi Dogs, the street dogs, of
the cities and towns have a very different life to dogs we would call ‘ours’
here.
There are
large numbers of dogs, mostly short haired brown dogs, usually in clans, who
live, basically in the streets and they are, and yet are not, what we would
call ‘wild dogs’. They are families with territories that include streets and
roads and vacant land. People do feed them sometimes yet do not own them or
look after them in the usual sense. People have a warm, yet disinterested,
compassion about them as fellow beings.
The dogs
are wise enough to hang around where there is food, at markets and shops etc,
and also tend to make a direct journey to the doorway of shops especially on
hot days when fans and air conditioners in the shops bring some cooling to the
entrance and footpath outside the shop. Dogs, lying on their backs across the
entrance to a 7/11, is a common sight and people just step over them.
The dogs
seem to sleep a fair bit during the hot days and then congregate in clans at
night and move around the streets, not threatening anyone, but rather doing the
clan-social-thing that dogs do. Some are loners, but most are in extended
families with kin and/or territorial agreements.
They are a
long way from The Wolf archetype, yet are not pets of humans, nor owned by
humans. They can forage and hunt a bit, and the life of a free-range chicken in
the locality is a tenuous thing and many chickens tend to exhibit a realistic
paranoia thus congregate high up when possible at night.
The entry
of a real Wolf into the dog and human society does bring with it significant
behavioural changes for all…for dogs, for people, for chickens, for water
buffalo, and all the other characters that do actually live within the confines
of the towns and cities. At the same time the changes have more to do with
respect rather than with fear.
A Wolf,
very old, took up living in the city, in a small street with the name of The
First Street of General Happiness, in Bangkok. He was a very old, thin, and
scarred wolf with a limp and with a variety of old cuts and patches of mange/baldness.
His open smile, on a hot day, showed occasional bright teeth.
People from
their small houses would come and leave food for the wolf in the street and
someone built a small rain-cover for him out of wood and old galvanised iron.
On the far side of the street from the houses were some trees and a wire fence
separating the community from a field in which water buffalo were loosely corralled,
in sight of the local fresh meat and vegetable market.
The first
immediate effect of the ancient wolf taking up residence included all the water
buffalo moving to the opposite extreme end of the vacant field in a huddled pack,
all the time.
The second
effect was that all the domesticated ‘owned’ dogs, behind their high gates, stopped
barking.
The third
effect was that the Soi Dogs no longer went anywhere in, or near, that narrow
street.
As
mentioned, the general effect was profound yet seemed to have far more to do
with Respect, rather than Fear. The old Wolf, in his slow and limping state
was, indeed, nothing to fear at all. A small kitten could, and did, sometimes
approach the wolf and eat from the bowl the people had put food in for him, and
the Wolf didn’t mind at all. The Wolf spent much of his time sleeping, out of
the sun and rain, under the small structure someone had built him.
Whilst
being a simple construction of some pieces of wood and a small roof, as time
went by, it became a natural shrine of acknowledgment and, indeed, respectful
gratitude for the Presence of the Wolf.
In my journey
from where I lived to get to the corner shop for cigarettes and Bier Singha,
even during the rebellion, with government snipers bunkered in concrete and embedded
in the locale, with occasional water cannon, a small bomb here and there, gun
shots, and the equally disturbing daily trail of monks seeking bowls of rice, The
Wolf snoozed on, unconcerned. The world, coming to his shrine, in his street, had
made peace with him.
“I went to
see The Wolf today
and he was
dreaming, miles away
I asked ‘Dear
Wolf, can I be so free?’
And he said
‘Oh, that’s
not up to me.’”
John
Fitzpatrick, The Third Street of General Happiness, Harmony Highway, Krung Thep
Mahanakorn…2012.
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