The first time I met Yoko was over lunch, a local dish of rice, spicy vegetables and chicken heart wrapped, cone-shaped, in waxed brown paper. We sat on the cool tiled floor of the office trying to get relief from the sticky heat of the afternoon and the heat of the spicy vegetables.
Yoko’s stomach was rounded and full from a meal he had only just finished but that didn’t stop him from wanting to share some of mine. When I wasn’t forthcoming he happily gnawed on the straps of my backpack resting on the floor next to me. He wasn’t big enough to do much damage and besides, he was so damn cute.
With the dark markings of the beautiful Kintimani dogs and a white star on his chest, a colourful collar, he had a face full of mischief. His ancestors have a 90% genetic makeup of the Australian dingo but with western breeds coming onto the island this little fellow had the wiry and energetic build of a fox terrier. Due to a scrap with some bigger puppies he had a possible spinal injury that left him with a weak back end and slightly bowed legs. His physical disabilities may have restricted our playtime but they certainly didn’t curtail his puppy exuberance.
Being cute and injured worked well for Yoko resulting in cuddles and attention from staff, something he had never had before in his short life and something he would likely never receive if not for his rescue.
Yoko’s story started with his birth up in the hills of Bali in a village where most people live a hand to mouth existence. The local dogs have a symbiotic but impersonal relationship with villagers; the dogs adopt a family, scavenge for scraps and leftovers and guard the home with voracious barking. The predominantly Hindu Balinese value the lives of all creatures but most see animals as tools, tools for farming, tools for income in the tourist industry or tools to protect their property from thieves. Ultimately family pets and strays alike communally roam the streets fending for themselves, scavenging for food and breeding without restriction.
Their world revolves around food; what to eat, where to find the next scrap of food, never feeling replete. They hunt rats, scavenge from bins behind restaurants, steal from the Hindu offerings left on the footpaths or at their most desperate, eat their own excrement. Bali’s street dogs are born hungry.
In a country where everyone has to work hard to be fed, there is little left over for the family pet let alone a hungry yelping litter. Puppies are abandoned on a daily basis and many are hit by cars or slowly starve to death.
Yoko was one of the lucky ones. He was found abandoned by the steps of a local temple and was rescued by the Bali Animal Welfare Association’s clinic on Monkey Forest Road in Ubud. BAWA fed and vaccinated him, gave him a clean dry bed and cared for him until he was old enough to be neutered and adopted out to a good home.
One of BAWA’s main aims is to spay and neuter as many stre
et dogs as possible to ensure that all of Bali’s dogs can eventually be adequately fed and cared for. Focusing on East Bali, some of the poorest areas on the island, where dogs are often in need of medical treatment, BAWA’s mobile clinic conducts up to 40 free sterilisations a day and even offers free spaying and neutering to Balinese who cannot afford to pay.
It costs as little as $20 USD to spay a dog, $70 USD pays for fuel and maintenance to keep the animal ambulance on the road for two weeks and $100 USD feeds, vaccinates and cares for one puppy like Yoko until adoption.
I never saw Yoko again after that day. I don’t know if he survived his spinal injury or if this is a happy-ever-after story and Yoko ended up in loving home. But his is just one story. There are many, many fairy tale endings, all lined up behind bars, tails wagging, yapping for attention, just waiting to happen at the adoption centre.
