Frances Wood is a dedicated and very capable volunteer who focuses her attentions in her local community which is fundamental to tackling the often desperate situation of dogs living on the streets or in temples.

This story by Frances is very sad. As I compile this post for publication, tears are streaming down my face and I know it will be the same for many readers. This is not fiction, this is reality.

Many foreigners coming to live in Thailand fall into the trap of believing that they have a lot to teach Thai people. The longer I live here, the more I realize that there is much to be learned from the people who have welcomed me to their country. For example, I see that I can be too impatient, expecting everything to happen much more quickly than it often needs to.

But sometimes my frustration at the lack of action on Thai people’s part is hard to contain. On the second of May I returned from a trip back to Europe that had unfortunately ended with my being taken into hospital for two days with suspected appendicitis. The doctors supplied me with antibiotics and agreed that I could travel back to Thailand as long as I sought medical attention upon my return. The day after I arrived back home here was a Sunday and I was planning to have an easy day before going to the doctor on Monday. But fate had other plans for me. At about eleven o’clock in the morning, the monk from my local temple called me to say that one of the dogs was terribly injured and could I please come to see what I could do. As an active animal lover, I have tried to help the dogs and cats as much as I can since moving to Thailand. My main aim is to get as many sterilized as possible in my area, but I also supply a little food and medicine. The monk at my local temple, Wat Jetiyanosorn, in San Puleui is one of the more caring ones in my nine year experience in Thailand so I have always tried to give him some support with the dogs that people throw away outside his temple.

Because I was concerned about my own health on the Sunday, I called my friend, Nienke, who has a boarding kennels near my house, and asked her if she could come too. She willingly agreed and met me at the temple half an hour later. As soon as we arrived, the monk gave us both masks. I briefly wondered whether he was worried about swine flu, but it turned out that the stench of gangrene from the poor injured dog was too strong to go anywhere near her without having our faces covered.

She had been lying in a shed for two days, slowly rotting to death. Although I have seen some unbelievably bad sights during my time of helping dogs and cats, this one was the worst. There had been some kind of injury to her rear end. We don’t know what, and it doesn’t matter. What does matter to me is why on earth there was no-one else capable of taking the suffering animal to get help sooner. The temple is a busy one and the shed where the dog had been lying was right next to the main building. It would have been impossible for anyone coming into the temple not to notice the stench.

As I approached the dog, she lifted her head a couple of inches from the ground and tried to greet me. At this point, I couldn’t stop the tears coming and was touched to see that the monk was also crying. Between us, we managed to wrap a blanket around her and put her in the back of Nienke’s car. When we arrived at the vet’s surgery, there was some ridiculous talk of trying to treat her for a couple of days, but both Nienke and I had had enough experience to know that this was a totally lost cause, so we stood our ground and insisted that the dog was immediately put out of her misery. She went to sleep very quickly, with her head in my hands. Goodnight, Sweetheart. I never gave you a name because too many of your friends that I did name and care for over the years met unpleasant deaths and, to protect my sanity, I have to maintain more emotional distance these days.

We returned to the temple with Sweetheart’s body and the monk instructed his novices to dig a very deep hole behind the temple so she could be buried. I wanted to ask him why it had been necessary to wait until I got back from Holland, but there are some lines you just don’t cross. We’d seen his tears and my instinct told me that there was some shame involved.

Once again, the monk thanked me for my assistance with the dogs at the temple. In my absence, the appearance of four tiny puppies left outside means that the canine population is now up to eighteen. The monk appears to be very busy with the four young novices and other duties and he often says that having so many dogs living at the temple causes him headaches. At least he doesn’t refuse to accept puppies abandoned outside, as another temple in my area did last year. So I promised to bring some worm tablets for the new residents and reassured him that I would attend to the sterilizations when they were ready. It wouldn’t be possible for me to do this if it weren’t for the support of Care for Dogs. But if I could have one wish, it would be that Thai people could realize what wonderful creatures all these dogs and cats are and stop treating them like a disposable commodity.

On a brighter note but all the same distressing, is a story about Little Guy who is 1 of 4 puppies dumped at local temple just before the poor Sweetheart incident.

2 puppies were already taken away by temple visitors but I went to give worm tabs to other 2.

A few days later I saw that Little Guy had an enormous abscess on his side. He was skinny and undernourished and obviously being bullied as big dogs had been biting him.

So I took him to the vet where the abscess was lanced and then to Nienke’s so he could get medicine every day and build up a bit.

He will then go to the Care for Dogs shelter where hopefully he will find a new adopted home.

Frances Wood