Batty

My name is Batty.

Sunday, September 29, 2013 may have felt like any other day to most people, but to me, it will always be the day I came so close to being lost forever - and then was miraculously saved.

I was a happy-enough young adult growing up on the streets of northeastern Thailand. I lived by my wits and bounced from meal to meal, wherever one could be scrounged up. I learned how to avoid street dog packs that spelt trouble and humans who meant no good.

But one hot tropical summer's night, I let my guard down enough to drop into a deep sleep. That was how I was captured. And thus began the most horrific experience of my young life…

As if being crammed into a crush cage, stacked onto a truck (ouch! for any stray paws and tails outside bars), and then hidden under suffocating, heavy, plastic tarps wasn't bad enough…there was also our destination. We were to be illegally smuggled across the border of Thailand and into neighboring nations where we would be hobbled helplessly about our ankles and put up for selection - for DINNER!

Thank goodness that by some stroke of fate, our transport truck attracted the suspicion of local police. Not believing that we were really legal produce, they had a peep under the tarps covering our truck, instantly changing the course of so many lucky lives.

The smugglers were fined heavily and dispatched back to their own nation, and our truck rumbled on - but this time to a massive government livestock center, Nakhorn Phanom, which was being used to house the hundreds of us being saved every few days from illegal dog meat traders.

Here I am at NP - the first name I ever received in my whole life, and it was still just a number #1531. I had a ways to go before I would become "Batty."

We were "safe" now - which of course, was the biggest blessing ever to be bestowed upon us. But things went downhill from there for so many of my fellow dogs. There was hardly enough food, fresh water, or shelter for us all, so fights broke out frequently, many of them very bad. With so many dogs and not enough staff to intervene, some fights were even deadly. As if that wasn't bad enough, the distemper virus was introduced into the livestock center by a sickly dog who had been saved - and because there was not enough vaccines or medicine to go around, it raged through our population claiming lives like wildfire.

 On October 10, a kind-hearted person saw my photo amongst a batch of many online and offered to sponsor me - an offer which ultimately saved my life. Although it would still be a long time before I was removed from that shelter (the distemper virus shut down all movement in and out for many interminable months), it was still the only lifeline that promised me any slim chance at all of rescue.

Sure enough, four months later - when the disease had at last been eradicated and conditions at the shelter improved enough - I was finally deemed ready to travel. I and 7 other lucky dogs who found international sponsorship were carried away by truck to Bangkok, a day's journey away. There we received veterinary care, proper nutrition, and any remaining medical support we required after our ordeal. 

Finally, the big day arrived. In March of 2014, all 8 of us left the veterinary clinic behind forever and boarded a plane destined for the Thai island of Koh Samui, where Elfesworld dog sanctuary is located. Once in Samui, we made a last short stop at the vet for spay and neuter surgeries and then we were on our way!

March 21 was a red-letter day for us!

We were finally on Elfesworld soil for the first time, and safe - FOREVER - and we thought we were also all home - FOREVER. 

But there are over 600 of us here at Elfesworld, many of us dog meat trade survivors. Although the majority of us can live in this large dog population just fine, a few of us - either because we are scared of so many dogs, after our experiences…or because we are just so darn affectionate and desperate for loving, which is impossible for all of us to receive from the few workers here...would be better off as a house dog in a normal home with a real family.

I am one of the latter. I am a happy-go-lucky 2 year old spayed female girl, weighing only about 25 lbs. I do fine with nearly all the dogs here at the sanctuary (well, I do like to try to guard a bone or rawhide if I am lucky enough to score one, but a large part of that is likely due to having SO MANY dogs around me all the time, as well as having so few possessions my whole life that I could ever call my own) - so I could easily live out the rest of my days here and I would not complain. I am lucky - so darn lucky - to be alive, and I know it. 

BUT - I am a visitor favorite here because I LOVE people. Let me clarify - actually, I love LOVE LOOOOOVE them! I love to lick them and tell them how much I love them, and I love when they take time to stop and pat me or better yet, cuddle me. I love everything about you awesome wonderful amazing humans (which not all of us meat trade survivors do, for obvious reasons - so that alone makes me stand out in my crowd), and it's obvious to everyone who meets me that I belong in a home with a family to call my very own.

Are you that family? 

Can you help me realize my dream? 

I sure hope so…

Love, Batty

For more information about adopting Batty - 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 Nakhorn 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. 

I was brought to Bangkok for veterinary care and then flown to the beautiful island of Koh Samui, to Elfesworld, a dog sanctuary. When I arrived here a year ago, for the first time in my strife-filled life, I saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Here at Elfesworld, I am shown kindness and affection; I have learned confidence and am polishing my manners; and I have discovered the meaning of safety and 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 in a real household.  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, Batty