My name is Nena.

My name is Nena.

posted in: Dog Stories | 0
I have been on this earth for only one and a half years but in that short span of time, my life has been one continuous struggle to beat the odds. Even now – having traveled halfway round this spinning planet – I find myself once again in hot water. I am searching for a light at the end of the long, difficult road I have already traveled…might you be my beacon in this storm?
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But I am jumping ahead of myself now, so let me begin at the beginning.
I was born under cover of night in a garbage-strewn alley in Phuket, Thailand. My mom did the best she could with those of us who survived this perilous birth and infancy in a busy city – she protected us from speeding cars, aggressive street dogs, and sometimes-malicious humans. But all too soon, we progressed from mewling newborns to creeping, then crawling, then trotting puppies. Not all of us survived to young adulthood, but I have worked to forget those terrifying days. However, the worst was yet to come.
One day – distracted by the distant odor of food perhaps, or simply exhausted by the endless pursuit of sustenance, shelter, and safety – I carelessly stepped into a busy road in Phuket without watching where I was going. To this day, I don’t know how or why I let my guard down…I had been trained to “look both ways before crossing the street” from the day I took my first wobbly baby steps. The car was fairly quiet too. And it was definitely fast. And it definitely must have felt the THUMP when it smashed into me nearly head-on.
I guess the passengers inside didn’t care enough to stop, though. I was flung to the side of the road and the car continued along its merry way, leaving me floating in and out of consciousness. When I did come to, I was in agony – my right front leg had been badly broken.
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For almost any other Thai “soi” (alley, or street) dog in my position, this would have been my curtain call. There are simply so many of us in need…and so few with the resources – emotional, physical, financial – to help.
My broken leg prevented me from moving to full safety over the curb, so it was only a matter of time before another zooming car claimed my life, once hunger, thirst or blinding pain drove me to move back towards danger in the road.
And yet – despite all the hardship I have known in my life, I now believe in my heart that an angel was watching over my shoulder. Something compelled passersby to look my way and see my bedraggled form lying at the side of the road. Something compelled them to bring me across the city through sheer compassion, seeking help for me with Phuket’s Soi Dog Foundation veterinary staff.
And something spoke to my wounded soul that day, telling me to hang on and fight my way back – telling me this was not the way my story was written, this was not the ending I had in store.
Giving me hope for a different future…and for one day, a real life, and a family – something not even within the scope of my limited world understanding at that time. I trusted that voice, and I held on, and I fought.
Quickly now, I healed – thanks to supportive medical care and the kindness of compassionate humans all around me (something I had rarely experienced before). Very soon, I was walking again, and not long after that, running. And then jumping. And then playing!
But now I encountered a new struggle. I had healed perfectly and been spayed and vaccinated, but the staff at SDF were unable to release me back to the streets I once called home. Although healthy now, my body could not sustain a second road accident – nearly inevitable, in the busy traffic of the neighborhood I once roamed.
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I had also tasted human affection and kindness, and I LOVED it! Who knew there were so many good people in the world who preferred to sit and pet or cuddle with a street dog, rather than kick at it or wave a broom in its face? I had seen a whole new side of mankind and no longer wanted any part of my former life, where I was forced to eke out an existence from day to day.
So I was introduced to a large run with many dogs from the general population – dogs like me, who have been saved by the angels at SDF, and for whom street dog life is no longer an option. There are hundreds of us, and all of us awaiting that gilded gleaming dream in the sky that we pray will one day materialize for us – this thing the humans call a “forever home”. But although many dogs transition effortlessly into large groups, a few have their struggles.
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As I should have expected, I was to face my own. No matter how submissive or “invisible” I tried to be, I invariably attracted the wrong kind of attention from the strongest and most independent in our run. I guess they just didn’t like me, and the harder I tried to appease them, the worse their threats and snarls became. Slowly, I retreated more and more into my own shell, scared to approach the food and water bowls at times, and scared to try to lounge on the salas – favored spots, as they are elevated bamboo platforms, many with thatched shade to protect from the glaring sun.
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But I listened to the gilded gleaming dreams of the dogs chattering around me. And honestly…they sounded like a fairy tale.
A house to live forever, with loving people to call one’s own, and even soft cushy spots called “sofas” and “beds”? Regular meals – no more waiting around bins for dropped restaurant leftovers??
I mean, really…many of us suspected the dogs spreading these rumors were making it all up. From my spot on the concrete floor of our large run, often damp with leftover tropical rain, where I tried to seek shelter and safety below one of the salas, trying to stay out of sight…I listened – but simply could not believe.
Little did I know that SDF was well aware of my plight and working day and night to secure exactly such a place for me. They broadcast my face out to the world on their website, on Petfinders, on their FB page, and everywhere else they could think of. They searched far and wide for a home for me, excluding no place on the planet.
Months passed, and then one day our carer visited our run and came straight towards me. As she pet me and scratched behind my ears, she tearfully told me that a place had been found for me – a “home”. A home!! Could this really be? I had truly believed by now that such a place was a thing of fantasy, and that I would live out the rest of my days here, as an “invisible” dog.
Steadily now, I began to grow excited as the days passed and a flurry of activity centered around me. I visited the vet again and received a full check-up and special papers called a “passport”. I was sized for this huge plastic and metal room thing, kind of like a box – they called it my “travel case.” I was scared at first, but I knew it was going to magically transport me to a fabulous future, so I tried to be brave as I practiced going in and out of it. On the big day, my carer walked me out of my run for the last time ever – I didn’t even look back to say goodbye. I might be mad at my tormentors, but even they didn’t mean to pick on me. I was one of them for so long – I know what it’s like to wait and wait for a forever that might never come. I was glad to be leaving them but sad and worried for their futures, so I walked out without a backwards glance, hoping that they all find the families they are looking for too.
I got a bath for the first time in my life, which was a little scary but ended up being a lot of fun. The water was cold, but it was so hot out that it felt good! I was rubbed dry with a towel and then I went back into my plastic box, but this time it was no practice session – I was loaded onto a truck and my carers brought me to the airport.
Oh boy! What a bustling place! I was scared but very brave, even when it came time to say goodbye to the tearful people who had saved me and brought me back to health during my stay at SDF.
And then I flew…in a giant metal bird, over oceans and lands (I am NOT making this up, I swear)…landing in just half a day on the other side of the world.
Whoa! Talk about jet lag. My feet were all weebly-wobbly and all I wanted to do was sleep at first – but as the days passed, I began to acclimate. Still, living in a home under a roof for the very first time ever was a challenge for me. Not only that, but there were two terriers who had already been living in that house for a long time when I arrived. I wasn’t sure what to make of them. They in turn were not so sure what to make of me – the interloper. Still, things were pretty copacetic.But I wasn’t sure what was happening, and spent much of my days perched atop a sofa where I had a good vantage point over everything and a view outside to the strange and alien suburban American midwest I had ended up in – so different from the tropical, urban Phuket streets I had always called home.

One day, when I was alone in the room with the two other dogs, an altercation began. I had been on my sofa and that was all my adopter knew – perhaps I saw someone outside and became frightened or territorial. Not knowing anything about houses, sofas, windows, and other comforts of home, I may have thought the person or animal outside was coming in. Perhaps I was sleeping soundly and was startled awake by the terriers joining me on the sofa. I don’t remember what happened so I guess we’ll never know…
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In any event, a bad altercation ensued, and my adopter – understandably concerned for her two previous pets and realizing that this was not the ideal placement for me – decided she did not want me in her home any more. The Soi Dog Foundation contacted the International Street Dog Foundation and they agreed to take me.
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I have survived serious injuries sustained on the streets of Phuket; I adored my human friends but withstood many dog attacks at the Soi Dog Foundation; and now I have been ejected from my adoptive home in the USA. I am almost out of hope. Will the fourth time be the charm? Won’t someone out there fall in love with me and have me for their very own?
I have lived with other dogs before in my life and coped just fine, but I am still reeling from culture shock and need time and love to build my confidence and to learn to trust canine companions in a setting that is still completely alien to me – life in an actual home.
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Alternatively, a house where I am the solo shining canine star in the spotlight would suit me wonderfully! I have a huge heart and so much to offer, if only you will love me forever.
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I am adjusting better and better each day under loving guidance of my foster parents, Dawn and Chuck, of the International Street Dog Foundation. I know what snow is now (you would never know I once called the tropics home!) and I am enjoying my cookies and doggie beds and this strange soft stuff called ‘carpeting’ immensely.
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I am the definition of the word survivor, but even I cannot survive much more heartbreak. Will you help me glue the pieces of my heart back together again and make me a real house dog, like the stories talked about? I have so much love to give…I just need the perfect person or people to give it to.

Love, Nena