Thursday 18th June: Prison Break

Boy it’s hot today!  I can’t imagine what it would have been like for the dogs without the newly installed aircon downstairs, as all aircons are now on throughout the house and it’s still not overly cool.

I’m late getting to the kennels as there is a lot of work to be done on the computer and we have a full contingent in the office: Kathy, who does just about everything, Maxwell, our adoption team leader, and Mark the trainer.  Plus the 4-legged occupants, of course.  Joe, our accountant (as well as doing many other things) is also there, so I squeeze in where I can.  

Sweet Adrian

Sweet Adrian

Adrian, the new peke, is overjoyed to see me in the office.  It’s incredibly touching and sad how these abandoned dogs attach themselves to a new person so quickly, such is their need for the security of a human.  Even Newfie, who has been with us for a while now, barks with excitement when he sees me or  hears my voice.  He’s such a lovely dog, and I try to spend even just a minute with him as I pass.  I hope someone gives him a home before too long.

There are still more puppies on Lamma needing vaccinations, and today being Thursday

Jerry moves to kennels

Jerry moves to kennels

it’s an SPCA (vet) day.  Jerry joins his littermates at the kennels after his final vaccination, and they give him the usual beating-up as a greeting.  Then it’s playtime, and all is forgiven as they hurtle off around the kennels.  They’re all terrific pups, and nobody can stop themselves from smiling just watching them.

When I arrived at the kennels there was a dog that looked familar standing outside with an apparent owner.  I recognised the dog from Pokfulam Village when I went looking for Remy and Martin’s home,  and I’m told by one of our Chinese volunteers that this dog was also picked up by the dog catchers, and as predicted the collector was required to pay a hefty fine.  I wonder to myself why AFCD are rounding up these dogs that are owned, albeit not officially, when there must be many other things they could be doing.  Like going round areas such as Pokfulam village and microchipping the dogs rather than catching them to kill them.  Education is what’s required, not slaughter.  The dog now standing outside, as well and Remy and Martin, are very nice dogs, friendly and healthy.  Why do they need to be killed?  The woman with the now-chipped and rabies vaccinated dog says she knows who the owner of Remy and Martin is and she will tell him that they are with us.  What she doesn’t know is that they have just been desexed.

Even as a pup Johnnie was a cheeky boy

Even as a pup Johnnie was a cheeky boy

Puppies vaccinated and paperwork dealt with, I head off back to Lamma.  There’s the usual chaos when I get home, with dogs and doglets jostling and fighting to be the closest to the gate as I go in.  I still half expect to see Johnnie, who until he recently died was the leader of all the dogs and the deferred to him without question.  It was always Johnnie at the gate, and although he was a pest he was also such a character I had to secretly love him.  He had a cheeky face and an even cheekier personality, and I was often exasperated by his stubborn refusal to do anything except what he wanted to do.  He made his way up, both physically (to the top floor of the house) and

My beautiful Inky

My beautiful Inky

through the ranks of the other dogs to become the leader of them all.  It dismayed me to see even Inky, my own dog, accept Johnnie as her superior but there was nothing I could do.  Between them all, the dogs made their own decisions in such matters, and until the day he finally lost his life to renal failure at only 5 years old, Johnnie reigned as king.

After fighting my way through the sea of furry bodies to put my bags down inside, I go out into the garden again and notice that there are some dogs outside the fence.  One, two, three …….. then four and more.  There’s another hole in the fence and the dogs are lined up to squeeze through and out. Damn damn damn.  I find a big stone and heave it into place, blocking the hole, then start the frustrating task of trying to get the escapees back inside.  Finally I think I’ve done it, but later that night, after I’m in bed and have turned off the lights, I hear barking from outside.  There’s a runaway who now wants to come in.  With images of unspeakable torture in my mind, I go downstairs and open the gate and the culprit, one of the now-grown monkey pups, dashes in.  Back to bed.  Then it starts again, and there’s another one.  I go out into the garden where I can see the ghostly white body of one of the Brunch Club doglets lurking outside the fence.  I open the gate and call, but these doglets are timid and instead of coming in, he scoots back into the undergrowth.  Cursing and swearing, I try to flush him out but I don’t have any shoes on and it’s dark and late and I want to sleep.  I give up and go back inside, leaving the gate open.  Tomorrow I will make arrangements to have the fence fixed.

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