The Dogs of Taiwan

They're everywhere. Some are pampered, pushed in baby strollers. Carried around in designer handbags. Sometimes one will even see these posh pups sitting inside restaurants enjoying a family meal. Others are treated as respected pets, trained to ride motor-scooters, walked on leashes.

The second group of dogs are treated as nothing more than sentinels keeping watch outside the homes of locals. These animals are often chained up or confined to cramped cages with bowls of dirty water. They wear jaded, haunted looks on their faces. They are not so friendly; more than once I've had a hostile hound lunge after me as I passed by, only to be yanked back by cold links of chain.

To outcasts...

Then there are the others.The mangy, pitiful strays-too numerous to count- running amok all over the streets of Taiwan. Whether in Taipei, Hsinchu, Puli, Hualien, or Kending, these dogs are everywhere. Some have obvious parasites leeching off their bodies, others have fur coming out in clumps, ribs showing, ravenous with hunger.

They often run in packs like wolves and howl, bark, snarl-all hours of the the night and day, trying to alert Taiwan's citizens of their plight. More often than not, these animals were once coddled cute puppies. Maybe in another lifetime someone had loved them. As they grew they became too much of a burden. Cast-off, they found their way onto the streets where they learned to survive on garbage and the kindness of strangers.

They are some of the smartest dogs I've ever seen. I've observed them watching traffic, crossing the street at the opportune time. I've seen them catch rides on local buses. They've followed me begging for scraps of food. Most recently, they've also chased me along a bike path, no doubt wanting to attack me for trespassing on their territory.

The dogs of Taiwan deserve recognition.

I've seen people throw rocks. I've seen people kick them. I've seen people selling and giving away their offspring, most likely to individuals who will discard the puppy once it transforms into full-grown dog. As an animal lover, this breaks my heart.

Recently I moved from a very overcrowded urban area to a small mountain city called Puli. I was surprised the first night I heard the wild dog pack outside my window. Night after night, they meet in a parking lot across the street, barking orders to one another in the shadows. Irritated, I walked out onto my balcony a couple weeks ago, trying to get a glimpse of the culprits. I saw a beautiful russet mutt calling to his friends, his slightly annoying bark giving way to mournful baying. Baying that haunts me every time I hear it.

The dogs of Taiwan are intriguing, sad, pitiful, beautiful, ugly, strong, annoying, heart-breaking, whimsical, and determined-much like the country itself. I can only hope they one day earn the respect they deserve, just like the nation.