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Diary of an expedition dog 2015-2017

Delicious for some, creepy for others

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Me in the Mongolian Gobi desert.

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).


I enjoy walking with Tanja through the rural areas of Phong Nha province. Past rice fields, water buffaloes and the homes of the people and animals who live there. One of the water buffaloes really has a “thing” with me. As soon as he sees me, he would love to take me on his crooked horns and tries to stomp after me every time. I’m glad that his owner is holding him by the rope. It’s kind of funny that we have animal owners. I don’t think you can own living beings, you can only love and enjoy them. It’s different with my people, of course they belong to me!

During our daily rounds, Tanja and I noticed a family. You can’t say they were particularly nice to us, but somehow they were different. Whenever we walked past their old wooden hut, I was literally attacked by three young fellow dogs. Of course I put up a fight. I ran a full attack, so to speak, and put them to flight every time. Let me tell you, it was fantastic fun. I find my Asian colleagues very small and timid anyway, and almost every time they see me they act like a big man, but end up turning tail when I just bark at them. But either way, they are fantastic to play tag with.

During our walk yesterday, I was really looking forward to the frenzy with the barkers from the strange hut. This time, however, it was unexpectedly quiet, because none of the bullies came rushing towards me. “I didn’t know they also had kids,” Tanja said, interrupting my thoughts and pointing to some poor animal whose belly the landlord was slitting open with a knife. Phew, I felt sick as a dog at the sight. “Oh dear, don’t look at me,” I heard Tanja say. Of course I then looked even more closely and I tell you, now I felt even more sick. It wasn’t a kid that was gutted, which is terrible anyway, but one of my Asian dog friends. Brrrrrrr how awful. I was gripped by sheer horror and any desire to chase the little rascals instantly vanished. “Be glad that you are our beloved dog Ajaci. The humans here would probably eat you just like the one down there at the hut.” “Huuuuuiiiiiii,” I howled heartbreakingly as I saw with my own eyes how my little colleague was cut up and landed in a pot. “I didn’t know that people do such terrible things?” I howled at my Tanja. I mean, I’m just a dog and sometimes I’d like to kick my colleagues’ asses if they’re particularly cheeky, but I certainly wouldn’t do anyone any harm. When we got back to our beautiful bungalow by the lake, we immediately told Denis about our terrible experience. I was crestfallen and really sad. The only thing that could cheer me up was a full bowl of food. However, as we lived in this region for many weeks, we noticed how it became quieter and quieter around us. In the end, we hardly heard the beautiful barking of my colleagues, because they pulled off their fur and slaughtered them. I’m telling you, that was just creepy.

Tanja always buys fresh eggs for me at the market. Then I get egg over rice with a little oil. It tastes super delicious. Sometimes my dear Tanja also mixes in some tofu or carrots, cucumber and green salad. I only eat the green salad when I’m really hungry. I’m not a rabbit. So what are they thinking mixing such disgusting green leaves into my delicious food? “It’s healthy for you”, I hear again and again. Brrrrrr, I don’t give a damn about health. Anyway, just then Tanja cracks an egg for me. “Yuck!” she shouts, runs into the toilet and throws the delicious egg into the toilet bowl instead of my bowl. “What are you doing?” I bark at her. “I’ve just cracked an incubated egg. There’s a real embryo inside. That’s not for you, my dear,” she explains and cracks open the next egg, which also has a little creature inside. My two humans look at each other in shock. “I think they’re all the same. I’m sure the Vietnamese like to eat half-hatched chicks and if that’s the case, our dog will like it too,” explains Denis. Because Tanja looked so horrified at the sight of these slimy things, my taste buds slipped away. To be on the safe side, I sniffed the slippery things carefully. “Don’t be like that. On the street, you’re just as likely to get your snout into any muck and here you’re going all etepetete on me,” says the impudent Denis, taking my bowl and I can’t believe it, wanting to eat the slippery things myself. “Smells incredibly delicious. Why don’t you try it? If you don’t eat it, I’ll eat it myself,” he threatens, whereupon I’m once again willing to lick the wobbly stuff. Hm, not so bad, I think to myself and bite into it carefully. I have to say. The stuff tastes better than it looks. It’s even delicious with every bite. So if the people here really do call it a delicacy, they know what they’re talking about. Tanja later learns from a Vietnamese woman that she slurps the slippery things raw out of the shell and that they are an absolute favorite dish for her. Well, I have to say, mine is now too. Wuuuuuuuuu!!!….

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