A little over a month ago I finally made up my mind to foster a dog from a shelter here in Korea. Domestic animals, or at least what we regard in the West as companion animals, have a pretty rough time of it over here - generally speaking. Most of the dogs one sees over here, especially out here in the countryside where I live, either live in small cages (sometimes on a really big, fenced-in property) or are permanently chained up. Cats too. This has been doing my head in since I arrived here. After a conversation with a friend of mine who had recently taken in a foster dog I started to think seriously about the possibility of fostering a dog in my apartment. In sunny, spacious South Africa the idea of keeping a dog in an apartment is almost unheard of. Most dogs have a bit of space to move around in, and many dogs run wild and free - admittedly, many of these are strays who are breeding and dying as roadkill prolifically, but the point being that out there on the Wild Frontier, we generally believe that dogs should run around.
Anyway, I thought about this long and hard. How would it impact my life, and my tendency to travel around the country over weekends, sometimes at fairly short notice? What are the costs involved? What is this dreaded heartworm disease that so many shelter dogs here suffer from? What sort of dog would be best for me?
I initially wanted to foster a Jindo (https://www.google.com/search?q=jindo&hl=en&client=gmail&rls=gm&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=19WDT8qQD7CciAeliJmsBw&ved=0CDgQsAQ&biw=792&bih=427), but they are hunting dogs and bred here for the harsh winters, which means two things: they need LOTS of exercise, and they shed a shit ton of hair all over the place. Also, they can get pretty big, and can be aggressive towards smaller dogs and children. One of the dangers of fostering, of course, is that you never know what the dog's quirks and temperament is like, as you have no idea of their history, except that at some point someone changed their minds about having a dog and dropped them off at or near a shelter.
In Korea this can be due to many different reasons. People get dogs, and then get rid of them when they find something better, like a boyfriend/girlfriend, or get married, or have children. Because, ofcourse, dogs and children are such a bad combination. Also, there is apparently a widespread belief that all dogs change into wolves when they turn 7. I don't know how true this is, but it is a fact that many dogs of that age end up in shelters.
So, I made arrangements and met up with a group going to a shelter about 1 1/2hrs from the place where I live. I had looked at a couple of dogs' profiles on the website, and although a specific little guy had caught my eye in particular, I was willing to keep an open mind. We arrived there and were greeted by the sound of about 50 dogs of all sizes yapping away merrily with excitement at seeing so many strangers. We walked a couple of the bigger dogs, and my guide/facilitator explained to the owner of the shelter that I wanted to foster while I became acquainted with the dogs. The little guy I wanted was a puppy from a litter of 3 that turned out to be wholly disinterested in humans whatsoever. I could never even get near him, and he was also quite a bit bigger than what I had in mind. I knew by then that I wanted a really small dog that I could easily carry around with me in a dog carrier and thus lug with on trains, buses and into coffee shops - not a lot like life out on the open plains, but better than spending a life on a cement floor in a shelter run by one elderly woman looking after 50+ dogs. Well, to cut a long story slightly shorter, Osoohni caught my eye. Very small, black and white, fluffy and with big, soulful, trusting brown eyes. She seemed to have made up her mind right away that I was to be her saviour. She was also the only dog there who never made a sound. She didn't bark, she didn't cry, she just looked at me with those big eyes and when she thought it was a lost cause, went back to her little cage to lie on her blanket, face turned to the wall. Well, I didn't seem to have much say in the matter, so like a good dog I went and bought a very expensive carrier and all the necessary bits and undertook the journey home on the train, after a teary goodbye by Mrs Jung and many urgent admonitions by Mrs Jung about making sure to put a collar and name tag on her right away.
Soohni settled in beautifully and has turned out to be the sweetest, most low-maintenance and good-natured dog ever. She still has never barked or yelped. When she gets uber-excited she sometimes makes a little snorting sound. Her favourite things are going for walks, chewing on her toys and snacks and lying on her back on my lap so that she can stare up at my face. For hours on end. Tummy rubs are also a big favourite, but she doesn't like being brushed and just barely puts up with baths.
And so the thoughts began. Can I bear to give her away? Even to friends whom I trust to look after her and love her forever? A mere four weeks after she moved in with me, I am almost 100% certain that I can't. Or rather, that I don't want to. I did some research today into how difficult it is to relocate with a dog, even if I decide to go to another country first before I go home, and it is not terribly inconvenient. Many airlines, in fact, will allow you to keep a small dog or cat (or rodent, or bird) in the cabin with you, if they are in a secure and approved carrier that is small enough. The quarantine period for going back to SA is only 14 days, and to some countries there is none at all if the animal is healthy.
So, it looks like I may have found my own dog again, for the first time in just over ten years. And of course, I had to go and do that in the Far Out East. Figures.
