Read Part I
Meanwhile, on the other side of the lake, No-Name continued waiting for his master to return. Just three months ago, this dog was living like a king. His German master had attached a side-car to his motorcycle for No-Name. What a great master to have. Yes, life was very good until that fateful day.
Here’s what happened. As No-Name lay upon the entrance steps of a restaurant one evening, waiting for master to finish dinner, a local ‘lady’ entered and kicked the dog aside. Master, seeing what had happened, kicked the lady in turn ¾ not a good idea if you’re sporting an expired tourist visa. She called the police.
He was arrested on the spot (and later deported), which left No-Name at the scene of the crime. After three months, he was still there, waiting for his master’s return. Not knowing how to survive on the streets, he had shrunk to just skin and bones. What would have once been a magnificent creature was very close to death’s door.
It so happened that just then I entered the restaurant and saw no-name lying in front, alone, sick and obviously hungry (left). I began to feed him raw chicken, mutton and water buffalo. Ever so slowly, meat started to appear on No-Name’s bones.
I had recently left the guesthouse where I was staying. The owners kept me up most every night with their incessant blah-blah’ing. A shame, since the place had the best view in town and the room was new and inexpensive.
My new room was also noisy but did have a decent view, looking across the lake. There were just a few houses over there and I wondered what it was like. That distant shore would be quiet, surely, since there were no roads or businesses.
But the only way to get there would be by boat and no power boats were allowed on the lake. One would have to paddle the way over. And it was a pretty big lake. Maybe that’s why there weren’t many houses to be seen on the other side.
Even so, my curiosity got the best of me. So I rented a boat and after an hour of paddling arrived on the shore,. Two young boys met me with a ‘namaste’. I asked if there were any guest houses. ‘No’ they replied, but asked me to ‘come this way.’
They led me up a winding path to a small house, not really a guesthouse but a private house where I was greeted by Shiva and Easy, its owners. They invited me for chai tea and then showed me around. Right away I felt at home.
No wonder I liked it, because there was the view of the town across the lake, the mountains beyond the foothills and the beautiful gardens Easy had cultivated on what had one been rice-paddy terraces. I knew straight away that this would be the perfect place to chill out, as they say. The village is called Anadu, which means peaceful. How perfect is that?
I asked if it would be possible to rent one of their rooms and the they lit right up. ‘Yes, we would love for you to stay here with us.’ Exactly what I wanted to hear. I returned to Lakeside to pack up my things. But before I left I made a deal with an honest waiter at the restaurant where No-Name waited.
I gave the waiter enough money to buy meat each day and feed No-Name for a couple of weeks or more. After that, he would again be wondering where his next meal would come from. This concerned me, but what could I do? Finding a home for a big dog like that, in such a terrible condition, would have been next to impossible.
Read Part III
Meanwhile, on the other side of the lake, No-Name continued waiting for his master to return. Just three months ago, this dog was living like a king. His German master had attached a side-car to his motorcycle for No-Name. What a great master to have. Yes, life was very good until that fateful day.
Here’s what happened. As No-Name lay upon the entrance steps of a restaurant one evening, waiting for master to finish dinner, a local ‘lady’ entered and kicked the dog aside. Master, seeing what had happened, kicked the lady in turn ¾ not a good idea if you’re sporting an expired tourist visa. She called the police.
He was arrested on the spot (and later deported), which left No-Name at the scene of the crime. After three months, he was still there, waiting for his master’s return. Not knowing how to survive on the streets, he had shrunk to just skin and bones. What would have once been a magnificent creature was very close to death’s door.
I had recently left the guesthouse where I was staying. The owners kept me up most every night with their incessant blah-blah’ing. A shame, since the place had the best view in town and the room was new and inexpensive.
My new room was also noisy but did have a decent view, looking across the lake. There were just a few houses over there and I wondered what it was like. That distant shore would be quiet, surely, since there were no roads or businesses.
But the only way to get there would be by boat and no power boats were allowed on the lake. One would have to paddle the way over. And it was a pretty big lake. Maybe that’s why there weren’t many houses to be seen on the other side.
Even so, my curiosity got the best of me. So I rented a boat and after an hour of paddling arrived on the shore,. Two young boys met me with a ‘namaste’. I asked if there were any guest houses. ‘No’ they replied, but asked me to ‘come this way.’
They led me up a winding path to a small house, not really a guesthouse but a private house where I was greeted by Shiva and Easy, its owners. They invited me for chai tea and then showed me around. Right away I felt at home.
No wonder I liked it, because there was the view of the town across the lake, the mountains beyond the foothills and the beautiful gardens Easy had cultivated on what had one been rice-paddy terraces. I knew straight away that this would be the perfect place to chill out, as they say. The village is called Anadu, which means peaceful. How perfect is that?
I asked if it would be possible to rent one of their rooms and the they lit right up. ‘Yes, we would love for you to stay here with us.’ Exactly what I wanted to hear. I returned to Lakeside to pack up my things. But before I left I made a deal with an honest waiter at the restaurant where No-Name waited.
I gave the waiter enough money to buy meat each day and feed No-Name for a couple of weeks or more. After that, he would again be wondering where his next meal would come from. This concerned me, but what could I do? Finding a home for a big dog like that, in such a terrible condition, would have been next to impossible.
Read Part III
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