Shy

My name is Shy. 

What a journey it has been for me! 

And I still have many miles ahead to put down…

But let me begin at the beginning.

I was just another scruffy, wary stray born to the streets of northern Thailand, eking out a meager existence, when I was caught unawares by dog meat trade smugglers late one night as I was sleeping. 

The wire noose shocked me awake and I was dragged, suffocating, to a nearby truck. The noose lifted me into the air by my throat and I was violently tossed into the truck bed amidst several dozen other poor creatures like myself, all of us huddling in fear to try to make ourselves as small as possible, and all of us whimpering in abject terror.

For several days our suffering increased exponentially, as each step along the barbaric meat trade only became more cruel.

I will spare you all the gory details. 

The long and short of my sad tale is that I was one of the lucky few. The stars aligned and a police officer suspected something fishy about the final truck I rode in on my terrible journey. He ordered our driver to stop and get out, and then he lifted the heavy tarpaulin that sheltered us all from view.

He took one look at hundreds of us poor souls, crammed so tightly into squeeze cages we could barely breathe, and immediately called in more authorities.

We remained as we were, however, for nearly another long day - our truck simply changed direction, and instead carried us to the nearest government livestock center, Nakhon Phanom.

Once there, authorities and workers toiled as quickly as possible, though it was many more agonizing hours before at last I was unleashed from my misery. But there were so many of us, and quite a few requiring urgent medical attention, that they could not rush the job. Each crate was unloaded, one by one, from the truck bed - and each had to be unpacked carefully, as there were sometimes up to ten of us or even more crammed into each small wire prison. 

Many, I am sorry to say, perished before we even reached our destination. The ones who died between being rescued and arriving at the livestock center were the most tragic victims of all, for they never got to see "the other side", as we all call it here.

I spent many long days in quarantine with my fellow rescued friends, and then we joined the general population at the shelter. If I thought I was overwhelmed before, I went into near total shutdown here. 

There were more than a thousand of us, and every day, just surviving the day itself was a small victory.

Here I am at Nakhon Phanom in March of 2013.

I had found some solace by clambering onto this narrow wall, where I was mostly safe from dog bites, fights, and the inevitable tension of so many of us packed into such small confines under great stress.

Having this photo taken was one of the most important events of my entire life. 

It was posted online, thanks to kind dog lovers working hard to find homes and sponsors for us, and myself and many others were viewed by hundreds if not thousands of dog lovers around the world.

Despite so many people admiring my dignified demeanor in the midst of such chaos, and despite so many people commenting on how they wished I would be saved, no one felt strongly enough about me to step up and adopt or sponsor me. My chances of surviving here much longer began to diminish. 

I am a small girl, weighing in at approximately 25 lbs NOW - after a year and a half of good nourishment at Elfesworld dog sanctuary. 

I was then so starved and so weak that I lacked the strength to fight for my portion of allotted food. I ate when I could, but it was not enough.

In April of 2013, Elfe - decided that - sponsor or no - she was going to save my life. 

She had me pulled from the shelter when some other (sponsored) dogs were also taken out. It was early April, one month after the photo above was taken.

Together, we all traveled a long distance by truck to a veterinary clinic where we boarded for medical treatment, sterilization, vaccination, and quarantine. 

On April 25, we flew to Elfesworld. Here I am just after my arrival.

In the days afterward, Elfe took some photos of me - but always from a distance. 

I did not even want to look at her! 

I sensed her kindness and her quiet and gentle spirit, but even then - I had been so traumatized at the hands of humans, I was afraid to even meet her gaze.

Here are a few more photos from my first few months at Elfesworld. 

Do you see me, at far left? 

Do you see how I liked to keep my distance, convinced that cruelty could always be just around the corner, waiting to take me by surprise as it did on the terrible day that I was captured for the dog meat market?

Every day, Elfe made a point of sitting just a little bit closer to me, or talking just a little bit louder when near me. She was determined to show me that humans were not all bad. 

Getting closer...

And even closer…!

I am so grateful that Elfe never gave up on me. I could have easily retreated into a shell-shocked anti-human state from which I might never have returned, but Elfe would not allow that to happen. Because of her, I am the sweet, friendly dog I am today!

But look at me then…she was still unable to touch me, though she could get quite close now.

September 1, 2013. 

This was a red-letter day for us! 

It was the first time I allowed Elfe to touch me. I was terrified but…her kind, gentle hand stroking me…I confess, it felt so lovely! 

Finally, Elfe had won me over. I would never again return to the place of terror I had so long occupied.

Look at me, now a few weeks later. I was even "smiling" at Mama Elfe!!

Whereas once, I had trembled in terror at the approach of any human…now, thanks to Elfe's persistent compassion, I gradually became a sweet, friendly, and sociable girl, dispensing kisses to visitors at the dog sanctuary, and learning to be more comfortable around other dogs.

 These days, I even sometimes join Elfe and a pack of other dogs as we take nighttime rambles on trails around her land.

By the time Dawn visited Elfesworld in the late fall of 2013, I was a changed girl. 

Here I am hanging out with Auntie Dawn!

I am a lovely girl and Elfe has sadly come to the conclusion that although she loves me dearly, her home is not the ideal place for me.

Although I share Elfe's bed with many other dogs at night and occasionally join her pack for long evening strolls, I was quite terrorized during my time at Nakhon Phanom livestock center, and it shows. Whenever I have the chance, I choose a chair or other "safe spot" in Elfe's home that I can have to myself. I am still a bit fearful about other dogs, so living at a sanctuary where there are over 400 of us is not the ideal home for me.

I will miss my dear Elfe so much...but I know why she is letting me go. I know in my heart that she is right, even though I'm scared to take the next step. 

I know I need a home of my very own if I am to complete my transformation and get the chance to really shine!

I am housebroken but must stay in Elfe's home all day, due to my anxiety around so many other dogs, so it is difficult for me to get out as often as I need to.

Most of all, though I am amazingly friendly with visitors to the shelter now, I am a work in progress. I will do best with a dedicated person or people who understand my shy side and are willing to work with me to calm my fears when they arise, and continue the socialization that Elfe has laid the groundwork for.

Unfortunately, in the environment I currently live in, there are just too many other dogs - too much noise and so much distraction - and not enough human time and energy - for me to really flourish and realize my potential. 

I would probably do best in a quiet home with adults only, or older kids. I have never been around cats but Elfe thinks I might do good with them. One or two other dogs - if they are very kind to me and have gentle dispositions - would probably be fine...but a home where I am the shining center spotlight of attention would suit me wonderfully, too!

I know I'll require some time, energy, and patience, but Mama Elfe is convinced that in the right hands, I am destined to be somebody's star. Won't you consider letting me be the one to light up your sky?

I'm worth it, I promise you that. I have so much love and loyalty to give. I hope I can give it all to you.

Love, Shy

For more information about adopting Shy - or any of our available dogs - please contact Dawn Trimmel at (414) 426-4148. Thank you!

* * * * *

 I am a victim of the dog meat trade.

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 while I slept and tossed a wire lasso over my head. As I awoke, struggling and snapping with fear, they used a long stick with crude pincers attached to the end of it to lift me and then dump me into a truck.

Lots of other terrified dogs were in the truck alongside me. We were driven into a dense jungle-like area, away from main roads and towns. Tropical trees provided cover as the same horrid men used the wire lassos and pincers on us again, this time to grab us and drop us into a pit. We fell through the air for a terrifying moment, then landed on a hard concrete floor. Some of us were injured in the fall; all of us were terrorized.

The pit cover was replaced once we were all inside it, and hardly any light penetrated from above. There was no food or water in our hot, dark, claustrophobic jail, and nowhere to escape. But we didn't fight one another or really do much of anything other than freeze with fear - we were all too traumatized.

Over the next couple of days, the pit cover opened a few times, light blinded us from above, and more dogs were dropped in amongst us until the men apparently decided that they had enough of us to satisfy their greed and justify an legal smuggling run across the border.

 One day, there was the sound of the pit cover opening again, and as we all blinked, blinded once again by the light, expecting more dogs to drop down amongst us, the long pincer stick returned instead. We were grabbed around the neck once more, and then shoved into a new form of torture - a compact "crush cage" - with many other dogs. 

The cages were set on end and we were dropped in and shoved and packed like sardines until limbs and tails emerged from between the wire bars and we were nearly suffocating from such close quarters. None of us could move more than literally one inch in any direction. 

Then our crush cages were piled high onto the flatbed of a truck, with more and more cages on top of, and around the sides of, ours. Many of us lost limbs and tails in crushing injuries as the staggering weight stacked higher and higher.

In order to conceal us - live contraband intended for smuggling cross-country and over two border crossings - a heavy, non-breathable 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 a long time. I was so dazed and disoriented that it could have been hours or it could have been days - I really can't say for sure. I guess they were waiting for an all clear signal from they boss. They drank water noisily from bottles as they laughed and joked near our truck and we watched them with desperate eyes because of course, during this time, we had been under terrible stress and had not had food or water for a dangerously-long period of time. 

I was certain 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.

It was evening, as dusk fell, when our truck finally rumbled to life and attempted to make a run northward for the border. The smugglers were headed for Vietnam, by way of Laos. But near the river's edge which separated Thailand from Laos, where we would have once again been thrown about like so much live garbage - this time into overcrowded smuggling boats - new sounds reached deep into our desolate quarters, inspiring fresh apprehension to those of us still alive and still conscious.

Voices - angry and commanding - fell upon our ears.  We were frightened, but not for long. Much to my surprise, we were rescued that day, and I owe my life to the caring individuals and government officials who came together to save us all from yet more suffering in an extended transport, and eventual slow torture and death, to be someone's adrenaline-infused meal (which some cultures consider good for one's health and virility). 

I am forever grateful to our saviors. A few of the Royal Police even cracked open water bottles and tried their best to proffer sips to those of us in cages with access to bars facing them. But there was too little water and too many dogs. And anyway, it would be a long while before we could even be released from our terrifying confines.

We were slowly transported another long distance, still in those horrible crush cages, still packed like sardines - it seemed to take forever. I was in so much pain and filled with claustrophobic terror - what next??

We ended up at the Nakhon Phanom government-run shelter, one of several large livestock centers in the Thai nation. There, our cages were unloaded with the use of cranes, hoists and manpower. 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.

A long, frightening, sad period of my life passed here. I wondered if my whole life would play out behind these bars, and I shivered with fear to imagine such a fate.

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.

For the first time in my strife-filled life, I am seeing the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Here at Elfesworld dog sanctuary in Koh Samui, I am being shown kindness and affection; I am learning confidence and polishing my manners; and I am discovering the meaning of love. 
It has been a glimpse into a life I never even knew existed: lives where dogs might 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.

Thank you for reading my story.

Love, Shy