My dog, Machu Pichu, is very popular. He even had his own stalker. I didn’t realise this at first. I just thought he was being the often annoying and neurotic dog that he has become under my care. I have that affect on dogs. I take perfectly normal dogs and turn them into creatures rife with behavioral issues. Fortunately, this talent does not extend to my husband and kids, yet.
Then one night, just around dinnertime, he started barking. And wouldn’t stop. I tried to wait it out, thinking:
Hmmmm he can smell the quiche, once again trying his luck to get in and swipe some goodies, greedy hairy beast.
But wait, there is no clawing at the window. Ah, we must have someone at the front gate. Who on earth would show up at the gate at this hour?!
Oh, no, as my four year old pointed out, the doorbell hasn’t rung. Ok must be a slug slowly chugging along, or perhaps a loose leaf caught on the fence, triggering his ‘the sky is falling’ alarm bark.
I kept ignoring him but 15 minutes later, I decided I should remove the leaf or slug but when I got outside, I found him barking at the bushes. If there’s one thing I appreciate, is that unlike Nightmare on Elm street type films, when the music goes all creepy and the lights go out, most of us no better than to go out and investigate.
So with that in mind, after making my way far enough into the garden to see that I could not actually see what Machu was barking at, I decided to call it a night and bring him in, lest my Buddhist neighbors cave, and take some very un-buddhist action resulting in their next life a few rungs lower on the reincarnation ladder.
The next two or three nights were a repeat of the first. I figured we’d just hit a new level of neuroses and didn’t give it much more thought. Each night, I’d schlep down the stairs and bring the agitated monster up to his indoor bed. Then one night, he doesn’t bark and I leave him out later than usual. And the barking starts again. My husband at this point is ready to take his own un-buddhist action. I go down in my PJs to fetch him only to see that instead of barking at the bushes, she is barking up at the tree, right in front of the house, the one with branches brushing up against our bedroom windows.
I flick on the two fluorescent lights we have, which illuminate about 3 square inches, barely making it to the trunk of the tree and ask the dog what’s he barking. Because after a certain number of Martha Speaks episodes and a bottle of red, he may just answer me.
Low and behold, it’s the jungle book in my garden, with my very own Kaa wrapped multiple times around a branch with his his head hanging down eyeing up poor, voluptuous Machu.
Welcome to living in Bangkok. Tune in soon for part 2. Not sure when part 2 is coming? Neither am I, so how’s about following my Facebook and twitter pages where I let people know when I have a new post up!
Ssssssssssssssee you sssssssssoon!