Kahlua (Adopted!)

* * * UPDATE * * *

April 2013

Kahlua and Toni arrived in the Boston area a few weeks ago, and were lovingly received at the airport by Give a Dog a Bone's Marjon Tondravi and hubby Joe, and by Tamara, adopter of Toni. 



Kahlua was fostered by Marjon's kind groomer, Ashley Elderkin, and her family. Thank you so much for opening your home to this dear boy!

Give a Dog a Bone has since found the perfect adoptive family for Kahlua in Massachusetts, and he is now living the dream with his mom, Jenn, and human sister, Grace!

Thanks to all who have made this possible! A special thank you to Soot Liang Woo, foster mom of Kahlua in Bangkok, and Marjon Tondravi at Give a Dog a Bone for finding Kahlua his wonderful forever family. 

* * * * *

My name is Kahlua.

Clearly, I'm quite the looker! 

I'm just a little boy - 22 pounds - but I possess a big heart and a very forgiving nature. 

I'm friendly and affectionate, despite all that I've endured in my short life. 

Fate has not been kind to me until now, but I always hoped that one day my luck would change - and now it has, thanks to the Magic 10 Club! 

I hope my good fortune continues, and leads me one day to a loving home with a forever family to call my very own.

I am a victim of the dog meat trade.

That's me, at right, just after I was saved on the way to becoming someone's meal.

I grew up on the streets of Thailand, in a "survival of the fittest" climate, where I had to fend for food and avoid many dangers. One day, some men approached me and tossed a wire lasso over my head. They threw me in a small cage with many other dogs. It was so packed that none of us could move more than an inch in any direction. 

Then the crate was thrown high into the flatbed of a truck, and more and more cages began to be piled upon the top of, and around the sides of, ours. In order to conceal us - the live contraband being smuggled - a huge, heavy, plastic tarp was thrown over the entire truck's cargo, cutting off even our access to fresh air - the last resource we had.

We sat on that truck for several days. Of course, during this time, we were given no food or water. I felt that the end must be near - I was sure I would suffocate from the heat, from this extreme overcrowding, and from the long stretch of time that slowly ticked by. Indeed, many dogs around me perished. 

One evening, as dusk fell, the truck rumbled to life and attempted to make a run for the Vietnam border. But near the river's edge, where we would have been once again thrown about like so much live garbage, this time into overcrowded smuggling boats, new sounds reached deep into our desolate quarters, and gave hope to those of us still alive and still conscious.

Voices - angry and commanding - fell upon our ears. Much to my surprise, I was rescued that day, and owe my life to the caring individuals and government officials who came together to save us survivors from yet more suffering and eventual torture, before an unimaginably-horrific end. I will be forever grateful to them.

We were slowly transported another long distance to the ------government-run shelter, one of three large livestock centers in the nation. There, our cages were unloaded slowly with the use of cranes and hoists and manpower. Then, one by one, our cage wires were cut and we literally had to be unpacked and unfolded from the positions we had been held prisoner in for so many long and torturous days.

Next, those of us who could stand and move still were herded into a large dog kennel. To be able to move freely again, and to have access to large vats of water and a long trough with food, was nothing short of miraculous, after all I had endured.

But although my life was marginally-improved now that I'd been "saved", we all still suffered - this time from widespread disease and massive overcrowding. Food was scarce; we lived practically one on top of the other; dog fights were frequent and often vicious; and there was little to no medical attention available. Once again, I was surrounded by terrible suffering and watched as many fellow dogs died around me at a rapid rate. 

But somehow, through some magical stroke of fate, Lady Luck intervened on my behalf. Someone, somewhere, saw my photo, looked into my eyes, and knew that they could not leave me behind.

Patarin Phadungpisuth removed me from Khemmarat and had me transported to a veterinary clinic in Bangkok. There, I saw a veterinarian for medical attention, was groomed, and was given a well-padded, spacious cage of my very own, with unrestricted access to my own personal food and water bowls. 

As if this was not enough, in a week's time, my foster mom - Pat, again! - came to the vet clinic, and instead of her customary "Hello, how are you?" and loving pats, she collected me out of my cage, and into her arms. And then we walked outside to her car, and she drove me to her home, and…oh, if you could only know how my heart sang aloud when this happened to me!

 For the first time in my strife-filled life, I saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. 

In my foster home in Bangkok, I was shown kindness and affection; I learned confidence, and polished my manners; and I discovered the meaning of family, and the meaning of love. It was a glimpse into a life I never even knew existed: lives where doggies have homes and families to call their very own, lives where they will never know fear again. It's a life I so desperately want now…but one which will be brand-new to me and often confusing. 

I have so much to learn about life as a pet dog. 

I know I can do it - I've made it this far already! - but please, won't you gently show me the ropes, and have patience with me when I make missteps sometimes, as I surely will? In return, I will repay you a thousandfold. 

I just need a fair chance at a life I could only dream of when I was that terrified dog, crammed into a crate, baking alive in the tropical heat, who had given up all hope.