FILM: Twelve Nights 十二夜, documentary on Taiwan shelter dogs

Tags

animal shelters, dog movies, Giddens Ko 九把刀, rescue, taiwan, taiwan dogs, taiwan films, Twelve Nights 十二夜

Film: Twelve Nights [Shier ye 十二夜]
Director: Raye
Producer: Giddens Ko 九把刀, Sophia Sui 隋棠
Cinematographer: ZHOU Yi-hsien 周宜賢
Performers: Dogs at an unnamed shelter in Taiwan
Breeds featured: Taiwan dogs, Shiba Inu, German Shepherd, Basset Hound
Production information: Atom Cinema, 2013 (Taiwan)
Availability: A region-free DVD and CD soundtrack can be purchased through Yesasia.com [Ed. 7.14.2014]

** Promotional photos come from the official Facebook site; others are mine.

Twelve Nights, a documentary about dogs in a Taiwan animal shelter, hit the theatrical circuits this Friday, November 29th. I had a chance to see it premier at a sold-out screening in the midst of the Golden Horse Film Festival.

Here’s an early preview that I shared via Facebook:

A rough translation of the overhead narration (which is not present in the film):
What if you only had twelve days remaining? How would you like to pass your time?

[Intertitle: What is the happiest time of your life?]

Just quietly enjoy some time with your family? Eat a meal of your favorite food? Join your friends at the beach and chase the breaking waves? Shelter your children one last time? Sit together, and watch one last sunset? Or… would you want more time?

[Intertitle: A lifetime’s journey, counting down in 12 days]
[Intertitle: Production credits (listed above)]

—

Everyone was handed a pack of tissues as they entered the theater (though some of us had come prepared anyway). “You’ve all got your tissues? You know what to do,” said director Raye somberly as she briefly introduced the film.

Who are the emotional masochists who choose to purchase a movie ticket, enter the theater, and purposely watch a film that they know is going to bring them to anguish and tears? I didn’t get a chance to survey the audience, but I noted that it was comprised of a mix of male and female (possibly leaning more towards women), mostly audience members aged forty or younger.

The film came together through the efforts of a young group of animal lovers. Raye, a commercial film editor who initiated the project, began taking her own footage, but had a hard time finding financial support. It wasn’t until she came upon a willing cinematographer, Zhou Yi-hsien (周宜賢), that producer Giddens Ko (九把刀 a.k.a. “Nine Knives,” a prolific writer and sometimes film director) entered with the necessary backing. After the screening, Ko noted, “I used to say that the most valuable thing I’ve ever purchased was dreams. But now I think the most valuable thing I can purchase is hope.” The driving motive of the film, according to Ko, is not to depress everyone about the monstrosity of the situation, but to inspire change.

Left to right: ZHOU Yi-hsien, cinematographer; Giddens Ko, producer; EMT friend, a volunteer; Raye, director

Indeed, the film is radically different from any previous documentaries I’ve watched which address the topic of homeless Taiwan dogs. Twelve Nights looks and sounds like it should screen alongside mainstream, commercial features with high production values, though I suspect the actual budget was relatively low. There were no “actors” to pay, after all. Most of the crew is comprised of volunteers, and all of the proceeds are going to animal welfare charities anyway.

It’s a film that holds together with a desperation and sincerity befitting the gravity of the topic. They desperately want people to come and watch this film, not for their sake, but for the animals. And as art is motivated not by profit motives, but by a resolve to understand and transcend time and space, Twelve Nights is so much more than that fatal deadline indicated in the title, or the duration of entrapment in this “shelter” that is more accurately described as a death-row prison. Rather, the aesthetic choices delicately balance hope and devastation, inevitably tipping one way or the other at times, but doing so with grace and sensitivity. How do you convince people to actually purchase a movie ticket and sit through such a painful film, after all? And once there, how can you justify making them stay? Why do you want to expose them to animal suffering and cruelty, and the visage of real death? Must we see these things to know that they exist?

I think there are many valid ethical questions when subjecting audiences to screen violence of any kind. Let me try to explain how the film navigates these issues through its three outstanding features – cinematography, narration, and music.

1) Cinematography

As should be evident from the preview, the quality of the visuals is gorgeous. Alarmingly so. Natural winter lighting contrasts the torture of captivity by casting so many brutal details in a warm, golden glow. Yet, this is not to say that the documentary devalues the gravity of the situation by beautifying it. There is so much shit, piss, blood, vomit, and other discharges from the very first day that it should be clear that the filmmakers are not trying to sanitize the issues at all.

Day one begins with intake. We watch a group of newly collected dogs get dragged out of their cages and marched into their kennels at the end of catchpoles, fighting and defecating themselves every step of the way. All of them resist in some way, no matter what their condition — old, young, barely weaned, mangy, fit, injured, pregnant, limping. There is even a Shiba Inu, nicknamed “Little Japan,” who arrives relatively groomed and sporting a new-looking collar. She, like every single dog scanned that day, is not microchipped. And one by one, you see terror and confusion cloud over their eyes when they’re finally moved into their kennel.

This is the important thing though… You see their eyes. You see their faces and their whole, expressive bodies. When photographing dogs, this is such an essential rule, but so often the cinematography must make compromises to withdraw back to human-centric narration. Not here. Even when the dogs burrow underneath the raised kennel platforms to hide and cower, the camera tracks and follows, maintaining canine eye levels. When you see the concrete floor slick with excreta by the end of the intake session, the thought of sharing that stooped view with the dogs becomes nauseating. Yet this is the only way to emulate canine perspective, and begin to understand the conditions in which they live and die (though the limitations of the medium can’t transmit the primary way dogs perceive — through olfaction). In the entire documentary, you barely see any human faces, you barely even hear the shelter workers’ voices. Locked in on animal visages, the cinematographer was able to elicit more personality and more charisma from every single one of these documentary subjects than some purportedly dog-centric films starring trained animal actors.

2) Narration

Despite what is suggested in the preview, there is no overhead narration. No extra-diegetic, God-voices at all, dictating how we should feel and think. This was a very conscientious decision on the part of the filmmakers, who wanted to decrease the level of anthropomorphism, while acknowledging that we can’t fully escape the anthropomorphic impulse to narrate in our effort to make sense of the very reason for this documentary’s existence.

Humans want to tell, and to hear stories. It’s clear that the dogs possess emotions that hint at many of their own stories, but how do they want to be narrated? This is what the skillful cinematography allows us to contemplate, and it is also what the textual intertitles nudge us to see with clarity. A few dozen dogs are given code names, which confer personality — not to excess. Anyone who spends time observing dogs, whether twelve days or twelve years, knows that personality will naturally manifest. And with the evidence of personality, or what is being debated as “personhood” in some circles, comes the moral responsibility to acknowledge that terminating a life means silencing the stories that came to shape that creature’s personality.

This, I think, is the most heartbreaking aspect of the narration for me — knowing that all these dogs had a past, one that probably was intertwined with humans. So even Twelve Nights cannot avoid sloganeering, but I find their mantra of Adopt, don’t abandon 領養, 不棄養 to be less antagonistic as the American counterpart, “Don’t breed or buy while shelter pets die.” Animal welfare agendas in Taiwan similarly aim to shape pet owner behavior, but not necessarily on the level of reproductive control. I admit, I twitched reflexively when I saw that dogs from this shelter were adopted out without spaying or neutering. Upon reflection, such details remind me that this documentary is about trying to rearrange value systems, and even empathetic “insiders” are not immune to having their beliefs questioned. On the whole, I feel that the narration eschewed dogma, judgment, and sensationalism. Yet, “facts” are ever neutral, and always gesture towards context.

For example, we are told right at the outset that of the 400 ~ 450 dogs witnessed over the course of the filming, at least 53 of them did indeed make it out of the shelter. For the rest, the film serves as the last remaining record of their existence. What these numbers signify to the viewer is instantly so much more than mere numbers. They are reminders of hope, as well as a way to prepare the viewer for the heartache that follows.

This heartache is meant to produce its own agenda. The filmmakers want their audience to react strongly enough to desire change. But they’re also trying to let you know at the outset that the something positive is in view. In the post-screening Q&A, Giddens Ko shared a particularly touching anecdote. He spoke of how they’d already resolved to rescue as many dogs as they could, abandoning the impossible notion of maintaining “objectivity.” Yet, he was trying to steel himself against the emotional outpouring that he knew would hit. At least, he didn’t want it to happen in front of the camera.

On the day the film crew was to witness a round of mass euthanasia, Ko was completely prepared to turn off his emotions. He happened to look over at one of their volunteers, an EMT who regularly visited the shelter and became a part of their documentary efforts. His friend, built like a “homicidal maniac” (in Ko’s words), literally the appearance of a man of steel on the outside, displayed absolutely no resistance to the circumstances. He let himself cry freely, openly, and with great sympathy. Here was a bulk of a man who has to confront the brink of life and death, both in his career and by choice through his volunteer efforts at the shelter, and yet he had no inhibitions about expressing his feelings for these animals.

The “homicidal maniac” speaks.

In short, the stake of these dogs is more important than your hangups about whether or not you should cry in front of others. This is something that the director wanted to remind potential audience members who say they want to watch the movie, but don’t want to be seen crying in front of their friends, or strangers. We legitimize these issues by allowing them to seep into public, and emboldening ourselves to appear vulnerable to others.

3) Music

Briefly, I want to acknowledge the score provided by Owen Wang 王希文, a talented young composer whose name has quickly risen among the ranks of Taiwan film. The soundtrack is intimate and minimalistic, consisting mostly of sparse piano, acoustic guitar, and chamber orchestration, complementing the cinematography with a similar elegance. Most importantly to me, there are no “theme songs” to speak of, where some maudlin lyrics penned for a pop star destroy the mood by closing out with some gross overtures of marketable sentiment. Many a Japanese dog movie is guilty of setting such booby traps in the end credits, and also too many other animal welfare documentaries than I care to list…

While the soundtrack to Twelve Nights is memorable, it does not overtake the voices of the dogs themselves, which is constant in a noisy kennel environment. Director Raye knows to employ music, silence, and noise judiciously. You do have to hear the voices of the dogs at times, but the audience is spared the sensation of hearing them all the time. Music is offered as an important psychological retreat. When a film is as heavy as Twelve Nights, it is not at all a bad idea to create as many ventilation points as possible, so as not to suffocate the viewer before they make it to the end.

So I heartily approve of this film’s inclusion in the Golden Horse festival lineup, and completely respect anyone who has the heart to purchase a movie ticket and see it during its theatrical exhibition. At this point, I do not know of screening prospects outside of Taiwan. If a DVD becomes available later, I’ll update with information.

The House of Two Bows keeps a running index of movies blurbed on the site, annotated by breed. If you’re interested in writing a guest blog for a dog film, contact for details.

Yachtz, an adoptable Basenji mix in Northern California

Tags

basenji mixes, basenji rescue and transport, bulldog mixes, dog adoption, rescue

UPDATE 17 NOVEMBER 2012: Yachtz still needs a home! He now has a listing on Petfinder with Homeless Animals Response Program in Antioch, CA. Please check out the link and contact karen.kops@harp-rescue.org for more information.

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The other day, I visited this Basenji mix and took some pictures.

His name is Yachtz (I called him Yacht-zee, like the game). He is 12 years old, healthy, neutered, up to date on all his vaccinations. Sturdy. Tipping the scales at 40 ~ 50 pounds. Gets his business out of the way before he comes to check you out. Companionable, once he knows you’re a friend. His broad face lights up with a cheesy, goofy grin.

This is what we know from previous BRAT postings:

“His owner has fallen on very hard luck finding herself homeless after hospitalization and is devastated that her longtime companion now has no one to provide for him and keep him safe as he lives out his life. The local ASPC graciously stepped up and paid part of the kennel fees but that was quite some time ago and he continues to be graciously kenneled with no hope of payment. The kennel owners understand that they will never be able to recover their costs and have been absolutely great in this situation, they do not want to see Yacthz euthanized, they say he is still a vibrant and healthy mix. He is bigger than the average Basenji but has the Basenji yodel and coloring. There are many volunteers that are willing to work to get him transported but we have been unable to find a rescue or adopter to transport him to. Understandably though, he needs to be out of the kennels!

“According to his longtime owner, Yachtz gets nervous and sounds aggressive around bicycle riders, skaters of both skate board and any type of roller skates. He is also sensitive to motorcycles. He was like this when adopted in 2003 and have no idea what may have happened to him in his early years. Yachtz also has a tendency to be food aggressive with other dogs. Although he makes grumpy noises he does not have a bite history but may do better living out his senior years as an only dog or with an owner experienced enough to deal with these characteristics effectively.”

I wasn’t able (or qualified, really) to test him with other dogs and fast-moving objects on wheels, so we’ll just have to take the previous owner’s cautions for what they are. I did note the irony that he shares a name with a manufacturer of longboards… but anyway, his issues are minor relative to the bulk of his potential. He’s quite limber, not hyper, and not slow; I wouldn’t have correctly guessed his age on my own. Didn’t seem particularly interested in toys or balls, but when I showed him a leash, he started whimpering with excitement.

I was pleased to find that he didn’t really pull or jerk me around (which is easy to do, given my size). Though he wanted to take the lead, he was quite responsive to my verbal cues and changes in direction. We weren’t able to go further than the perimeter of the play area. Mostly, what he wanted to do was explore and mark things.

He has some basic training vocabulary — sit, shake, and down (though it was too awkward for me to catch the last bit while holding a camera in one hand and training treats in the other). Though he didn’t seem particularly food motivated at first, he became interested once he warmed up to my presence. I guess he decided I was all right after a few scritches behind the ears, and especially after I Zoom Groomed the loose hair off his backside. He gave me his approval along with a chestful of wiggling dog butt.

Grateful for the compassion of this family-run kennel that has been housing him for over five months, I dropped off a 15 pound bag of food during my visit. But what Yachtz really needs is a proper home to live out his retirement years! Please share with any interested parties, especially if they’re anywhere near Martinez, Northern California (there are ways to make transports happen), and let’s see if we can get him home soon.

More pictures and videos in my flickr album.

For more information about how to adopt this boy, you can contact Ray Eckart with Basenji Rescue and Transport or drop me a message to reroute thataway.

If you found us searching for Taiwan dog adoptions and animal rescues…

Tags

AHAN, animal rescue, animal shelters, animals taiwan, asians for humans animals and nature, buddhism, dog adoption, dog photography, photography, rescue, shelter animals, spaying and neutering, taiwan, taiwan dogs, tou chih-kang, tou yun-fei, tugou

The Associated Press picked up an evocative story about a photographer of Taiwan shelter animals, Tou Yun-fei 杜韻飛 (real name Tou Chih-kang 杜志剛). Tou’s basic mission is to photograph austere, noble portraits of shelter dogs that force a confrontation between their animality and the viewer’s humanity, moments before he or she is taken away to be killed. Since last week, the story has been getting a lot of traction on major news sites, from ABC to the Daily Mail to Yahoo News to Huffpo to Dogster. If you haven’t read the story yet, go ahead and click on any of those links… they’re mostly the same content from AP writer Tassanee Vejpongsa.

Tou is working on a better online collection of his photos, but for now, he has a small gallery here.

original photo by Tou Yun-Fei

Starkly composed and tightly framed, each portrait leaves you with no other option but to look back into the eyes of the already dead. The photos shared are not gory or grisly. They are haunting, pathetic, dignified, somber… necessary. I am glad to see Tou’s work getting such wide exposure from international media outlets, though the accompanying article itself is pithy with history and context, leaving many questions and open-ended generalizations.

Oddly enough, many well-meaning internet wanderers have found their way to the House of Two Bows, apparently attracted to a few stray articles I have written about Taiwan animal rescues. Instead of answering every e-mail individually, I thought I’d try to contribute a more streamlined response via blog.

One message reads:

I am an American who is just learning about the animal crisis in Taiwan from Tou Yun-fei’s photojournalism. Although animal abuse and maltreatment is a problem globally, it seems as if the issue in Taiwan is more than a problem. From my reading, I am learning that part of the issue is that many practicing Buddhists believe that dogs are humans with negative karma reborn… is that true? Does Taiwan have spay/neuter clinics for animals or is that part of the problem? Overpopulation?

Additionally, my most important question is how can I (someone so far away) help build awareness and education of the issues facing animals (predominantly dogs) in Taiwan? How I can help you?

Any information would be greatly appreciated.

I leave my hasty, poorly-researched response here. Keep in mind that I write NOT as an expert, not truly an “insider,” and currently geographically distanced by an entire ocean from the island.

But I know the problem is multifaceted, systematic, leviathan as it is here in the US. It’s impossible to reduce the problem to religion. I’m not even convinced this explains the magnitude of the issue (though I’ve heard similar analyses from Taiwanese people), though it might contribute significantly to solutions. Buddhist non-interference is one of an array of responses which could include Buddhist activism, as well. There’s certainly an argument to be made that you can’t stare suffering in the face and not act if it is in your power to do so, since we are, after all, blind to how our own karmic scales will tip at journey’s end. Anyway, not everyone in Taiwan is a practicing Buddhist. This is to say very little of how Taiwanese Buddhism is a syncretic amalgamation of Taoist and Neo-Confucian influences as well, and there are many Christians, other religions, and non-religious citizens on the island too… but that’s getting a bit off topic.

Local temples get a lot of traffic. Not everyone who passes through is there to pray or to worship. In more rural areas, stray dogs are more likely to congregate, as monks and temple keepers provide leftovers for them.

Though there are many spay-neuter options, I still found quite a bit of reluctance from pet owners to desex their pets. When Bowdu was neutered at six months, even our vet commented that it was a “pity” to neuter a purebred because we would miss the opportunity to breed “valuable” puppies. This sentiment would be repeated by numerous strangers and familiars. Perhaps pet owners found it illogical to spend money to deny oneself an opportunity to make money, and the greater social benefits of spaying and neutering had not yet caught up to the rise of pet owner conceit.

Cost and convenience was really not much of an excuse. The regular price we paid for neutering was about $60 US dollars, and we were literally in and out of the clinic in an hour. Furthermore, the Taipei county government reimbursed vets about 1600NT for every spay/neuter they perform, in the hopes that this would encourage vets to perform more spays and neuters, as well as extend discounts to rescue, animal welfare organizations, and other well-meaning citizens (not sure if they still do this — will need to follow up). My family in central, more rural Taiwan was either more progressive in that they willingly spayed all their tugou, or perhaps just more practical about the matter since Grandpa, at least, still permitted his bitch to roam, like in the old days.

Yet, I think the vast majority of pets in Taiwan remain unspayed and unneutered, though I don’t doubt that this is changing — I don’t have the statistics right now though. There are also more mobile rescue groups who will catch, neuter, and release packs of stray dogs (more common in non-urban areas) and sponsor spay/neuter campaigns. The abundant pet stores and individual breeders, however, do nothing to educate on appropriate spaying and neutering (and they really could take the initiative on advocacy, by raising the standards amongst breeders — whom we’re not opposed to), let alone the government shelters. A lot of city shelter “services” are outsourced with the goal of eliminating immediate problems (mass round-ups and extermination) instead of long-term welfare.

Overly familiar with the sordid practices of government bureaucracy, a lot of people refuse to bring stray or unwanted dogs directly to the slaughterhouse, as it were. Leaving dogs to fend for themselves on the street seems like a more humane option to those who can’t feed or take them in. Strangely enough, I can understand that perspective. What I (and more and more Taiwanese people) can’t condone is the choice made by those who buy puppies when they are little and cute, grow tired of the commitment, then release and abandon their pet thinking it a “kinder” fate than a shelter death. And of course, their dog is most likely not spayed or neutered… and so they mate with other street dogs, more dogs are born… and the problem regenerates.

Somewhere in the Eighteen Levels of Hell, there must be a special place of punishment for those who abandon their dogs without trying AT ALL to properly rehome the animal through a trusted friend or responsible rescue. Maybe instead of being sawed in half, like this adulterer, night after night they are torn apart by Poochie and her progeny?

There’s a lot more going on, of course, but this is what I thought to fill in “behind the pictures,” for the time being. Meanwhile, you ask how you can help?

If you live in or near San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, Vancouver, or Toronto, it’s very likely that you have a rescue organization near you that works directly with animal welfare groups in Taiwan, as these are the major North American destinations accessible by China Airlines and EVA Airlines, Taiwan’s two main commercial air carriers. Volunteer passengers typically get the dogs out of Taiwan by “sponsoring” flights for the animals, since it is prohibitively expensive for them to be shipped alone as cargo. The volunteers get no compensation other than the satisfaction of escorting great dogs to a better life and better chances of adoption on this side of the Pacific.

If you’re in the San Francisco Bay Area, I know these rescue groups work with Taiwan animal welfare organizations:

• Asians for Humans, Animals, and Nature (AHAN)
• Northern California Shiba Inu Rescue (plenty of purebreds in Taiwan shelters as well as mixes)
• Rocket Dog Rescue
• Doggie Protective Services (DPS)
• Walkin’ the Bark
• Norcal Golden Retriever Rescue – Taiwan Gold Project [Edit: rumor has it that this project has been disbanded…]
• Love and Second Chances (San Ramon, CA)
• Homeward Bound Golden Retriever rescue (Elverta, CA)

If readers are aware of any that I have missed, please let me know so I can update appropriately.

Here are other rescues in North America that network with Taiwan groups (not a full list):

• Dogway Dog (Vancouver, BC)
• Ocean Dog Rescue (Vancouver, BC)
• Salty Dog Rescue (Seattle, WA)
• Motley Zoo Animal rescue (Redmond WA)
• Sweet Home Rescue (Irvine, SoCal)
• Collar Scholar (Poway, CA)
• Dogs Without Borders (Los Angeles, CA)
• Golden Retriever Club of Greater Los Angeles Rescue (SoCal)
• Hopeful Hearts (Wilmington, DE)
• Paws on the Go (Durham, ON)
• Paws United (London, ON)

And of course, there can only be progress with the efforts of those working in Taiwan itself. Here is a list of some groups that I know of — you can research each organization, reach out, and donate if you are so motivated. Be forewarned that the Taiwanese are not reticent about exhibiting more graphic pictures of sick, deformed, mutilated, and abused animals:

• Animals Taiwan (Taipei)
• Taiwan Animal S.O.S. (Taipei)
• Taichung Universal Animal Protection Association (TUAPA), also on FB
• Animal Rescue Team Taiwan (Taichung / Kaohsiung)
• Taichung PAWS (Taichung)
• Stray Dogs Rescue (Taoyuan, currently inactive)

Finally, I acknowledge there is controversy over how much foreigners should invest in other countries’ humanitarian efforts when we already have plenty to deal with on home turf. I’ve briefly addressed this in previous posts, and don’t have much to add at this point. My life is lived in multiple Heres and Theres, so my considerations perpetually flit between. But this mobility and transnational traffic of physical bodies isn’t uncommon now. Perhaps the same will eventually be said for concepts like compassion, respect and responsibility towards animals. If not your dollars, your attention, or your adoptions, create a world that fosters and rewards empathy, from wherever you might make yourself at home. I think that’s the best I can really suggest for anyone who wants to know how they can help there from here.

Items for daily consideration

Tags

basenji rescue and transport, calendars, kuranda beds, rescue, shelter challenge

Cover for the 2012 BRAT calendar (credit: R. Longcore)

The 2012 Basenji Rescue and Transport (BRAT) Calendars are now available for order! We got one last year and were very pleased with the quality and abundance of photos. This was the first year we got to participate as a voting volunteer, and we’re excited that Bowpi made it to the list of winning photos. You’ll have to check the order page to find out which one made the cut!

We would be getting a calendar even if Bowpi wasn’t part of the lineup. The variety of photos featuring all these neat little Basenjis engaged in oddly familiar (and a few surprising!) activities is one way to bridge the geographic spread of this well-organized but dispersed breed rescue. And of course, all proceeds go to helping the dogs being fostered and cared for in the BRAT system.

The BRAT calendar will look nice on the wall. Meanwhile, I have something for the desk as well, thanks to our friend Maggie who brought this weekly Shiba calendar all the way from Japan.

Sorry, I have no ordering information on this one, because I don’t know where they stock world-traveling friends who are willing to bring home dog-related goodies from the other side of the world.

If you need some other ways to count the days, might I suggest these two click campaigns that will last at least through the month of November:

The Animal Rescue Site is hosting another Shelter Challenge, with weekly prizes to top recipients. Basenji Rescue and Transport (BRAT) (look them up in Garland, Texas though volunteers are all over North America) asks for your daily clicks to stay on top of the rankings. At this time, BRAT is just barely out of the national top 10, but a few dedicated daily voters could make a difference.

Tikaani the Husky & Safyre the cat (credit: B. Bennett)

Over at Kuranda Beds, there’s a tense, seesawing stand-off between Tikaani the Siberian Husky, batting on behalf of NYC Shiba Rescue, and… well, it doesn’t matter, because we see only the couple pictured at left. The winner at the end of this month’s round of daily votes will win five Kuranda beds for the rescue of their choice.

We’re on the Shiba Side in this battle because we think NYC Shiba Rescue deserves props for emerging from their temporary hiatus last year to become one of the most organized groups we’ve got going for the breed. They’ve already done some great work in their (relatively) short time on the scene. Every bit of support keeps the momentum going! Click the picture to cast your vote!

FILM: Soi Dogs — The Movie

Tags

phuket, rescue, soi dog foundation, soi dogs, street dogs, thai dogs

Film: Soi Dogs — The Movie
Director: Ella Todd
Featured personnel: John and Gill Dalley, Atiporn Jittanonta, Suwat Soonknoen (Dr. Max), Tippiman Phondee (Dr. Mindt), Trethep Reungkit (Khun John), Sanae, Nok, Thep
Production Information: Environment Films, 2010 (UK)
Breed(s) featured: Thai street dogs / mutts / various mixes

Despite the devastating 2004 earthquake and tsunami, Phuket Island off the Southwest coast of Thailand remains a modern tourist hotspot and expatriate destination, an area teeming with life. Even along the boozy beaches, you’ll encounter ubiquitous packs of street dogs — mongrels that live a precarious existence alongside humans that pity and feed them, poison and abuse them, or in the case of the Soi Dog Foundation, catch and sterilize them, and rehabilitate, rehome, and shelter the ones that they can.

This classy, beautifully shot, and well-paced documentary started as a promotional video showcasing the Soi Dog organization’s work, but soon developed into a stand-alone feature about an overlooked aspect of daily life in Thailand. For as the figure of the dog straddles the boundary between domestic and wild life in many parts of the world, many of these dogs also made the passage from a beloved home to the street at some earlier point in their lives. Different standards of veterinary care makes pet sterilization a low priority, so the abandoned dogs, left loose to fend for themselves, continue to create more litters, and thus the presence of Thai street dogs has become common to the landscape.

The situation sounds eerily similar to another island that I’m more familiar with, Taiwan. Thus, I could not help but be attracted to this subject, though I think there is an inherent appeal to these stories that stir us towards a sense of social justice, whether or not you’ve ever had anything to do with packs of urban free-ranging dogs.

Organization co-founders John and Gill Daley, British expatriates who now live in Thailand, have endured some shocking personal sacrifices to help alleviate canine suffering on the island. They come across as charismatic, wise guardians who are deeply invested in their life’s work, which they found in their “retirement” ironically enough. Just as importantly, the film gives ample credit to the local crew, especially the dogcatchers and vets who all help shoulder the load. I am especially heartened to see such earnestness and compassion from the young Thai vets and shelter manager; they signal hope for more local involvement, which is essential if conditions are to change. That is, everybody involved with this film understands they have to go beyond the typical narrative of heroic Westerners who “save” the locals from problems they don’t even realize are problems. There are many locals who also “get it” and do whatever is within their means, from feeding temple dogs to bringing their own beloved pets to the mobile clinics for spaying and neutering. The relationship goes both ways, as abundantly displayed here.

Minimal use of suffering and sick animals adds to the persuasive rhetoric. Nobody wants to be hammered repeatedly with graphic images of animals in distress — it’s too depressing, alienating and emotionally divisive. Nevertheless, you can’t escape a few queasy moments: bloody and maggot-ridden wounds, panicked dogs in fear, and the stiff features of a couple poor animals that had quietly deceased. It’s just enough to hint at the depth of suffering that this crew must deal with on a day-to-day basis, and also garner some deep respect for their resilience.

All in all, a stirring and inspiring reminder of how much good some people are capable of accomplishing in this world.

The film is available in its entirety on YouTube. An even sharper DVD copy can be purchased with a minimum donation of $15.99 USD to the Soi Dog Foundation at this link.

[Hat tip to Mongrels of the World, where I first learned of this organization. They are currently selling 2012 desk calendars, featuring original photos of street dogs, with proceeds going to Soi Dog — check them out!]

Tugou a-go-go! The Northern California Formosan & Taiwan Dog Meetup

Tags

formosan mountain dog, rescue, taiwan dogs, tugou

18 June 2011

Aside from a couple Bows who infiltrated the above shot, these are all rescued Taiwanese dogs that have managed to find forever homes across the Pacific Ocean, here in California. Given our geographic proximity to Asia and the abundance of direct flights from TPE to SFO, this is one of several North American hotspots for Taiwanese rescue dogs. Several local organizations, including Rocket Dog Rescue, Doggie Protective Services, Asians for Humans, Animals, and Nature, and others have networked with Taiwanese rescue groups in order to find good homes for these unique dogs.

Annie

Logan

Lady is shiny

These athletic, compact dogs are often billed as “Basenji mixes” on this side, which is not accurate, but serves as the best approximation for their primitive look and slightly “feral” temperament. That is, indigenous Formosans were originally bred to be independent-minded and to hunt in forested mountain terrain. And like the term basenji just means “bush thing,” and doesn’t actually translate as a purebred, AKC-registrable dog in its native lands, neither does tugou refer to a distinguished breed in Chinese, and certainly not a purebred in the contemporary sense of the word. A tugou is an “[native to the] earth dog,” so this one is as much a tugou as any of the all-black specimens above…

Seven

… as well as these.

International dog adoptions are sometimes criticized from a protectionist standpoint, out of concern for local shelter reform, etc. I can appreciate that it’s a complicated issue, but in my world, the international is already home. About one in every five residents in my county is a foreign-born immigrant, myself included, and this ratio is true of many places where I’ve lived and felt most at home. In a typical day, I can pick up ten random items around my house and find that they’re made in at least five different countries. I might make a meal of Italian sausages while drinking a German beer and listening to French pop on a Japanese radio. While I can and do make conscious decisions to contribute to my immediate community, it doesn’t take much for the local to meld into the transnational, at least not from where I stand.

Thus, it seems to me that opening one’s home and giving love to a dog who happens to come from overseas is NOT going to upset the cosmic balance all that much in the long run. As the result of someone’s compassion, even imported rescues do their part to seed the very idea of a more humane world, wherever one may inhabit it.

They do their part to teach Bowdu how to mooch politely.

Two Katrina animal rescue documentaries: Mine and Dark Water Rising

Tags

hurricane katrina, rescue

I’ve been sitting on this blog entry for so long, it’s no longer timely, but I’m posting it anyway. For while the Joplin tornado, Fukushima nuclear meltdown, and Hurricane Katrina may not command today’s headlines as they did weeks or months or years ago, they’re still relevant to those who are dealing with the consequences. Every mass exodus from disaster-torn areas allows us to re-evaluate animal rescue and disaster relief policies anew, hopefully with an eye on improvement and the minimization of suffering due to faulty infrastructure. This is an arduous, continuous, emotional process that is contingent on numerous cultural and political factors, so I think it’s always worth sorting through the details to get a sense of what worked, what went awry, and how actions (or inactions) are perceived in historical hindsight.

I was living in Taiwan in August 2005, when Katrina struck. From the vantage point of a small Asian Pacific island that is frequently beset by earthquakes and typhoons, it was hard for me to grasp the full scope of what happened to the US. It was particularly difficult to understand the social and economic fallout in the aftermath; to this day, I feel like I missed the full arc of the story.

So Hurricane Katrina animal rescue becomes an entry point from which I feel I can worm my way in. Two documentaries about Katrina Animal Rescue that I recently saw:

Film: Dark Water Rising: Survival Stories of Hurricane Katrina Rescues aka The Truth About Hurricane Katrina Rescues
Director: Mike Shiley
Featured cast: Aaron Minjares, Larry Roberts, Kim Upham
Production Information: Shidog Films, 2006 (USA)
Breed(s) featured: pit bulls, various mixes

Summary:

Over 50,000 dogs and cats were left behind in New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina as FEMA required that all animals be left behind in the mandatory evacuation.

This forced separation created America’s first-ever major animal rescue.

A dedicated and compassionate group of volunteer rescuers and animal welfare groups from around the world risked their lives to sledgehammer down doors and brave toxic floodwaters in a truly heroic effort to save nearly 10,000 animals.

[…]

Dark Water Rising is a film about hope and survival in the face of the one of the worst natural disasters in American history.(press release)

Film: Mine
Director: Geralyn Pezanoski
Featured cast: Victor, Gloria Richardson, Jessie Pullins, Malvin Cavalier, etc.
Production Information: Smush Media, 2009 (USA)
Breed(s) featured: Terrier mix, German Shepherd, Labrador Retriever, pit bull-Akita mix, miniature poodle mix, various mixes

Summary:

As Hurricane Katrina bore down on New Orleans, the mayor issued a last-minute order for everyone to evacuate. In the clamor to get out of the city, many pet owners left their animals with food and water, fully intending to return in a few days. People without the means to leave the city on their own were forced onto buses and barred from bringing the furriest family members along.

The result was that tens of thousands of domesticated pets were left in a devastated city. Those that survived the storm and the floods faced grim odds of surviving the heat without fresh water or enough food to last the weeks or months before their owners were permitted back into the city to rescue them. Mine follows some of the hundreds of volunteers who mobilized in the hours and days after the storm, entering the city and capturing as many stranded pets as they could find. These volunteers often provided life-saving medical care to the injured, dehydrated, and hungry animals. Massive temporary animal shelters sprung up in the suburbs of New Orleans, where the lucky pets who survived waited to be reunited with their owners or adopted out.

It would not be easy or quick, or without ethical quandaries and lawsuits. Mine tracks the stories of several of the rescued pets, their original owners, and their adopted families, raising questions about what constitutes pet “ownership” and how we regard animals as both family members and property. (from PBS.org)

Dark Water Rising begins with a promise to tell “The Truth about Hurricane Katrina rescues,” as if there was an absolute moral standard by which to judge the chaos. With quick and dirty exposé-style narration, the film presents a polarized rescue scene — bureaucrats vs. renegades, corporate vs. private, vigilante justice.

Shiley did take some risks with this film’s content. He gives an unflinching presentation of the gruesome abuses of power that probably continue to haunt some of the same Southern jurisdictions to this day. A sequence towards the end details the St. Bernard Parish slaughters, in which several dozen family pets entrusted to the care of local police were found brutally shot — a case which has not yet been brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

Shiley also adopts a bold stance in framing the “anarchic” Winn Dixie group, as they were called in the film, as the central, pivotal characters, instead of taking the press kit-ready maneuvers of HSUS-uniformed crewmen at face value. However, it seems that the filmmakers’ sympathies for fringe groups bled into production values, as the overall narration suffered from too many diversions in an attempt to explain the desolation and desperation that plagued the ongoing rescue efforts.

Then again, perhaps this is truly what the view was like from the ground, heavily skewed to the nightmares of rescuers too trapped in the frenzy for their own good. Released barely a year after Katrina, no doubt that the first documentary emerged from a very different emotional state than Mine, which came several years later. But in Dark Water Rising, the frustration, righteousness, and the desire to make the audience witness the violence suffered by Katrina animals does more to alienate and disturb than convince me to embrace the group’s heroics. The film itself is deeply conflicted, which makes empathy difficult; it beckons with the promise of enlightenment by offering its audience a glimpse of the “truth”, at the same time the actors keep the audience at arm’s length (and I use the term actors very purposefully to acknowledge their acknowledgment of the camera), shaking their heads with the gloomy declaration that you never will and maybe don’t even deserve to “get it” because you. weren’t. there.

MINE: "over 100 animals were left to die at this house"

In contrast, Mine has well-plotted, interlinking story arcs, likeable and articulate characters, and emotionally cathartic conclusions (even when there was no real resolution). Pezanoski and crew selected their cast carefully to reflect some semblance of racial, gender, age, and even breed balance. For while animal rescuers interviewed in both documentaries express some honest shock at the sheer proportion of unneutered pit bulls amongst those that needed to be saved, the visuals nevertheless portray a very mixed population of dogs and people alike.

What is most significant — and sorely lacking from the first documentary — is that they gave voice to the citizens who were most directly affected by Katrina, and whose pets were rescued. Then they probed carefully to give them depth, personality, and most importantly, dignity.

“See, nobody ever thought I would come for [my dog JJ], first of all. And then if I did come for him, nobody thought I would be able to provide for JJ. See, I don’t think people know who I am — that’s one of the problems.” (Jessie Pullins, whose akita-pitbull mix was named Jessie Jr. like a son)

Jessie displays a flyer that shows his JJ was found

These were not the willfully negligent guardians that some rescue groups presumed large swathes of NOLA pet owners to be. These were elderly folks that needed help evacuating in the first place, and only left their dogs when forced at gunpoint. These were heads of households who had to evacuate their entire multi-generational families on short notice. These were ordinary citizens with limited resources and no authority to re-enter their own city until months later, while anyone who donned a shirt declaring themselves an animal rescuer could be waved through the blockades.

Much of what happened there remains senseless and incomprehensible to me, as it must surely remain for those who have since learned to pave over their tragedies. But one thing that did resonate with me is how animal rescue can serve to radically collapse space and distance.

Sandra, Bandit, and Malvin

Volunteers swooped in from all corners of the country to offer help where it was needed. And as the nearby shelters quickly filled to capacity, the dogs had no choice but to get shipped even further out. Rescuer Jane Garrison explained the situation and ethical quandary in blunt terms:

“If you lost your dog today, and your dog ended up in the shelter, after five days, your dog can either be adopted out, or euthanized. No questions asked. But in Katrina, most of the people who lost animals were displaced. They needed to give them longer to get them. So they kept extending it — from the five days, to several weeks, to then again, a few months. If we set a precedent by saying that animals from Katrina can be reunited with their original families up to 3 years after the storm, no animal shelter will ever take animals in. You or I would never adopt an animal from a shelter if we were told the original family may claim this animal up to 3 years later. So what would happen is we would be stuck with a situation where a disaster hits, we’re rescuing animals as quickly as we can, but we need to move them out in order to make room for others? Nobody would open their doors. So thousands and thousands of animals will die again, because there won’t be any place to put them.”

People come in, dogs go out. And because the dogs went out, people stepped back in to help reunite pets with their previous families. Many of the stories are so touching because you see communities and individuals rally around the plight of just one pet who happened to mean everything to his former owner. The unlikely partnering that most impressed me was the Canadian, Sandra Bauer, who helped elderly Malvin locate his dog in Pennsylvania. There was some resistance on the part of Bandit’s new owners, and we never actually hear their side of the story. But when we finally witness Bandit and Malvin’s reunion, it was a confirmation that, at least for a moment, something overwhelmingly good had just happened before your very eyes.

Now, what business has a Canadian meddling in the affairs of several states in a country she doesn’t even call her own? Well, state lines and other geopolitical limitations do little to obstruct activism in the name of compassion. Sandra was moved by Malvin’s plight as a pet lover, which is inextricable from her identity as a decent human being. As simple as it may seem, this realization was profound to me — particularly in light of recent events by notable bloggers in animal advocacy, as a for instance. Even if the details of each specific rescue are only amazing because they are “exceptional,” you string enough exceptional stories together and you can build a pretty awesome story about how many lives were forever changed by the love of one animal. And when such a film has the power to touch a viewer in whatever corner of the world she may be viewing from, that’s also when you realize that the true magnitude of these stories is global.

When viewed back-to-back, it was easy for me to come to a clear opinion as to which was the superior documentary. But after writing all this, I realize it’s not entirely a fair comparison to make. 2006 did not anticipate the new information and legal changes that would come to light in 2009, nor does there seem to be much reference to these documentaries in 2011, at least not in blog form.

At any rate, I make no claims to timeliness, so I get to blog about whatever I want. And what I wanted was for some way to have the positive experiences of previous disasters lend guidance to the challenges of current and future disaster relief, even if it’s just in the way we think about our pets in extreme situations. Just as sure as I don’t expect the earth to stop shaking and the skies to stop storming, these won’t be the last two pet rescue documentaries I’ll have the opportunity to see in my lifetime. But if each iteration can be a little less agonizing, less graphic, less tragic than its predecessors, the loss of loss itself would surely make for noble progress.

MINE: Max and Victor

We survived our first Shiba meetup

Tags

cream shiba inu, meetups, rescue, shiba cam, shiba inu, shiba party, tuapa

In the documentary The Natural History of the Chicken there’s a segment about Midwestern rural homeowners who rally together to sue a neighbor “game cock” breeder. They go on at length about noise pollution, which seemed to be the polarizing kernel of the issue, even moreso than the “redneck” sport of cockfighting itself (to quote one of the plaintiffs out of context).

This scene came to mind when I attended the 2011 Shiba Party in Novato last Saturday.

Photos taken 4 June 2011

HUH? Non sequitir much? What do fighting cocks have to do with Shiba Inu?

Not a whole lot, I admit. I don’t mean to offend or confuse with my random connections. The doc was fresh on my mind from a recent viewing. Just as I found it funny that the sound of a hundred crowing roosters could be perceived as either “normal” country ambiance or riotous noise, depending on which side of the issue one stood, so too did I note with some amusement how the occasional eruptions of spatting Shibas on the sidelines were lightly brushed off by attendees — “Eh, it’s normal!” they might say before resuming conversation. One wonders if the average visitor to the park or the neighboring residents would agree!

We arrived in the afternoon, missing the rainshowers that had flushed out earlier Shiba bloggers like Taro and Sinjin and Sienna. But by coincidence (or as evidence of the density of bloggers amongst Shiba folks), we immediately recognized the young pup that was on “stage” at the moment performing tricks for one round of the contests. It was the little strawberry, Ichigo! … And he does indeed know an impressive array of tricks.

Ichigo’s sister Suki was there too, and they got some on-leash romping, moderated by Dad, whose snarl can be seen on the right side, below.

Ichigo’s stance here signals to me that he was more than ready to defy his Old Man’s authority.

And then there were the soft and pliable ones…

Here is a “Shibaholic” taking a potent huff of Beni-bara, one of the Shiba Cam royalty who made an appearance. Another Shibaholic, who surprised me by recognizing the Bows, was very nice and took me around to point out one of the B-team creams, Bento.

I’m quite impressed by how the Shibaholics (the devotees of the Shiba Inu Puppycam) turned their online network into an annual pilgrimage. People had come from as far away as New York and the Caribbean to be at this event, and it was as much about their shared adoration for this breed-specific phenomenon as it was about meeting each other.

I’m afraid I don’t spend much time on the Puppycam boards, nor did there seem to be many other Shiba Inu Forum members present (I’m more familiar with the latter). So if I kind of felt out of place with my Taiwanese-bred Shiba and “Fake Shiba” Basenji, the two Bows were feeling it too.

We started to gravitate towards the rescue tent, where we knew there were other Taiwanese Shiba.

Little R2 is one of NorCal Shiba rescuer Red Young’s pack. He came from TUAPA in Taichung, Taiwan (an organization I’ve blogged about before). It was nice to catch up with Red, and hear about some of his recent work. Between happily-rehomed Shibas that were in attendance and the potential adoptions that were waiting, ever so patiently, to happen, I was feeling a lot of love for the rescues. Jack and Abby from Northern Nevada Shiba Rescue were there, as well.

Bowpi, the “out of coat Shiba,” huddles amongst the rescue Sheebs as the air starts to get chilly again.

I forgot this catnapping sweetie’s name…

Penny the puppy failed her temperament testing (she bit the rubber hand), but I have no doubt that she’ll find a loving home soon.

“Creamy” came from Taiwan too, and now has a new name and a loving family!

Red joked about how Bowdu was probably the only Taiwanese Shiba in attendance whom he wasn’t responsible for bringing over. On one hand, I get a kick imagining the invisible thread that links all the local Taiwanese Shibas, blended amongst the crowd. On the other hand, it’s a pervasive reminder that the average pet owner is ill-equipped to do justice to the popularity of Shibas in Taiwan, both in terms of the practical knowledge to handle their breed “difficulties” and the social infrastructure to help keep them from failing. I know we had a hell of a time raising Bowdu in urban Taipei, and I sometimes wonder what might have happened if we hadn’t had the opportunity to bring him here, where it is infinitely more dog-friendly.

So after all these years of living in the California Bay Area, and in all of Bowdu’s six years, this was our very first Shiba Party. Since we’ve subjected Bowdu to many a Basenji meetup, I thought it was only fair to turn the tables and see how it’s done on the “other” side. I’m honestly shocked at how well we pulled through. I had been braced for tangled leashes and hurt feelings and the possibility that I might be footing vet bills for some well-meaning but overenthusiastic pup’s muzzle meeting Grumpy Old Man Bowdu’s teeth. But he proved me wrong by behaving really well for this event, despite (or because?) being on leash the whole time.

Bowdu rose to the occasion simply by being himself. Sometimes, that’s all I really need to ask of him.

FILM: Walking with the dog [Inu to arukeba] (2004)

Tags

dog movies, international therapy dog association, japanese dogs, japanese film, rescue, shiba inu mixes, stray dogs, therapy dogs, toru oki

Two fellows ditched by their ladies

Film: Walking with the Dog [Inu to arukeba 犬とあるけば]
Director: SHINOZAKI Makoto 篠崎誠
Performers: TANAKA Naoki 田中直樹, RYO りょう, FUJITA Yoko 藤田よこ, AOKI Tomio 青木富夫, Peace (shiba mix), Chirori (therapy mutt)
Production Information: 2004 (Japan)
Breeds featured: Shiba mix, Siberian Husky, mutts

Yasuyuki is an earnest but naive young man who gets dumped by his girlfriend the same day he picks up an abandoned Shiba mix, whom he names Tamura. He is immediately drawn to the smart little mutt, perhaps because they share a similar plight of being left behind by someone they loved. Though Yasuyuki is unemployed and barely able to fend for himself, he is inspired to help the dog. He jumps on an opportunity to enroll Tamura as a therapy dog with an organization that he heard about on the news. The training director is touched by Yasuyuki’s selflessness and gives them a place to stay and work, allowing both human and dog (and audience) the opportunity to learn about animal therapy work.

Meanwhile, Yasuyuki’s ex-girlfriend, Miwa, has returned home to take care of her granny and depressed younger sister while her mother is in hospice care. She has enough stress in her life without Yasuyuki’s attempts to get back together with her, so when he offers her Tamura’s assistance, she is skeptical at first. However, the good-natured little dog shows that he knows how to work the miracles she once expected of her boyfriend. Miwa and her family eventually come to understand the value of canine companionship, particularly the way that dogs can help enrich human relationships.

Hot on the heels of the Japanese blockbuster Quill, the story of a seeing eye Labrador (yes, it’s on my to-do list, when I finally feel emotionally steeled for it), this quiet little film barely raised any notice. While Walking with the Dog does unfortunately suffer from some problems with pacing and poor character development, I think it’s deserving of a closer look. If nothing else, it’s a tantalizing and honest contribution from Japanese animal advocates who are attempting to manifest a vision of humanitarian care akin to what they imagine is available in developed countries like the United States.

getting a feel for leash pops

Indeed, one of the sharpest angles about this film is the way that the American animal welfare system is unabashedly praised as a model for emulation. One scene where Yasuyuki’s friends are debating what to do about Tamura unfolds as follows:

Woman: I heard that when America had this problem of abandoned dogs… they set up a system specially for training these kinds of dogs.
Yasuyuki: Japan doesn’t have this kind of system?
Woman: Well, I don’t really know anything about that.
Yasuyuki: Where have I heard about this before…?

And that’s when he looks up at the television to see a news story on therapy dog star Chirori, wearing an American flag bandanna, and her trainer.

Toru Oki and Chirori, therapy dog star

This actually parallels the musical career of “Mr. Yellow Blues” man Toru OKI 大木トオル, who not only acts the role of the training director, but who is also a real-life spokesperson for the International Therapy Dog Association in Japan. Reflecting his performance practices (he was known for making a convincing show of Chicago blues sung entirely in English), Oki-sensei tells his therapy dog assistants to give commands in English, as the consonants of the Japanese language are too soft and muddled for proper instruction.

from the streets to the lap of luxury

therapy dog classes becoming more and more popular

The welcome mat at Oki’s training center is similarly bedecked in stars and stripes, and later in the film, when therapy dog work appears to be gaining popularity, new trainees are initiated under a banner that reads “Proud to Be An American.” So these overt gestures of American favoritism are hard to miss, but the appeals have less to do with toadying to the West than embracing an ideal of universal humanitarianism.

Chirori, therapy dog superstar

mobbed by a million elementary school kids

Ultimately, what is most touching and most captivating about this film are the unrehearsed encounters, the moments when these real life therapy dogs are working their magic at nursing homes and elementary schools. I admit that my eyes were more often on the dogs than the humans in such scenes, and there were times when I cringed when witnessing the mobs that these poor dogs must suffer in the name of teaching about empathy and compassion. But it’s all the more to their credit and their training that they never act out even in times of visible confusion and stress. The stub-legged mutt in particular, Chirori, is placid through it all, a true exemplar of what the calming presence of a dog can do.

The nursing home scenes are also notable for featuring veteran actor AOKI Tomio (below), whose film career spanned 1929 (!) to 2004, this being his final film.
For fans of Japanese pop culture, two other prominent names make cameo appearances. KATAGARI Jin 片桐仁 of the comedy duo Rahmens ラーメンズ and YOSHIMURA Yumi of JPop duo Puffy Amiyumi appear as Yasuyuki’s quirky husband-in-law and pregnant sister.

cameo appearances by Katagiri Jin of Rahmens and Yumi of Puffy

Finally, Ryo, the actress who plays Yasuyuki’s girlfriend, is supposedly a pretty big deal from J-drama. However, I found her appearances to be tedious and unevocative, as befits her character, the emotionally frigid “strong woman” who is far too stoic for her own good. I have to admit that I sped through most of her scenes at double pace (thanks to the wonders of home DVD technology), including her climatic meltdown about three-quarters through the film which otherwise would have taken 8 whole minutes. That’s like a decade in filmic time. But apparently even that wasn’t compelling enough for me to get any screenshots of her, so you’ll just have to do without.

therapy dogs in training

Indeed, the stars of the show, as acknowledged in the film’s full title (Inu to arukeba: Chirori & Tamura) are the dogs, or more specifically, the mutts. And this is why it’s such a huge pity that Walking with the Dog was not a bigger hit in the same Asian regions that embraced Quill (Hong Kong, Taiwan, and of course Japan). Perhaps the abandonment scene that opens the film hit too close to home. I can’t speak of other countries, but I know that releasing unwanted dogs in open areas, instead of trying to properly rehome them, was and still remains common practice in Taiwan [cf. Hsu, et. al, “Dog Keeping in Taiwan: Its Contribution to the Problem of Free-Roaming Dogs,” Journal of Applied Animal Welfare 6.1 (2003): 1-23]. Perhaps audiences were revolted by the scene inside a Japanese animal shelter, which seemed relatively brief and sanitized to me, but may have presented too intrusive a dose of “reality” for audiences expecting more escapist fare.

Searching the shelters for his lost dog

Or perhaps the idea of a rescue mutt stripped of breed history or any back story with accompanying footage of puppy cuteness is just that radical, and has yet to catch on with mainstream audiences. To be fair, there are several moments that stretch the limits of credibility — for example, Yasuyuki’s complete willingness to claim responsibility for Tamura, even in the face of legal repercussions, and Oki-sensei’s quick decision to take them under his wing despite knowing so little about either of them. So it’s not like the audiences that “rejected” this film are discounting the gravity of the situation, since the story only has a tenuous basis in reality. But the most real characters here are the registered therapy dogs, all of them rescued. For me, the second chance given to every single one of those dogs on screen overshadows the general faults of this film, allowing me to be gentle on its shortcomings, and appraise it instead for its potential to inspire something greater.

Whatever the reasons for the commercial failure of this title, I am grateful to the filmmakers for bringing this story to screen, and would hate to see it fade into obscurity. At the time of this writing, maybe only the expensive Japanese version has English subtitles (it’s not clear to me according to the listing on Yesasia.com, but older titles on that site often suddenly go AWOL once you try to buy them). I watched a Taiwanese edition entitled 男人與流浪狗 (literally A Man and a Stray Dog) with original Japanese dialogue and Chinese subtitles.

Once you feed a stray, he'll never leave you alone

If you have any interest in Japanese society, therapy animals, or the way that dogs’ lives are narrated alongside everyday human drama, I’d say this is worth keeping an eye out for.

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Silver greys

Tags

greyhound friends for life, greyhounds, rescue, senior dogs

Yesterday, we went to the smaller, fenced-in dog park where we ran into two of my favorite local greyhounds, Bobby and Dexter. They are alumni of Greyhound Friends for Life, adopted by a kind, older woman who only takes in senior greys. I’ve known two predecessors of this pair, who also had the sweetest temperaments — she really knows how to pick them, as they’ve all been marvelous ambassadors of their breed. Collectively, this silver-haired woman and her golden years greyhounds have really turned me onto this breed, and I hope someday to be in a position to rescue one or two.

Photo taken 12 May 2011

I didn’t always appreciate the sighthound skinniness though, and for that matter, neither did Bowdu. One of her first that we met (about five years ago) was so incredibly frail and dessicated in appearance, even Bowdu had a hard time recognizing her as a dog. When he marched up to this greyhound all tough-like, the greyhound froze. Didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge Bowdu’s “greeting,” and just stood there as stiff as a barren bush.

Bowdu sniffed the stick-figure dog all over, and when there was still no movement, he did what he would do to any other shrub.

Bowdu lifted his leg and peed on the old greyhound.

That poor old greyhound (whose name escapes me at the moment) didn’t make it through the winter, but there was another to replace her, and then another after a few well-spent years. I’ve noticed that Bowdu is willing to be close and to hang out with them all (he grew out of the habit of marking other dogs, thank goodness), despite his usual prejudice against tall, leggy dogs. The latest one, brindle Bobby, is so tall that Bowdu has walked right under him in the past, as casually as walking under a picnic table.

For me, Bobby and Dexter are just highlights of a dog park that the Two Bows usually find boring and, frankly, a little too small for their taste. Bowpi’s tail started drooping after twenty minutes, and Bowdu decided to lie down in the shade, which was my cue that they’d had enough. So we left pretty soon afterward… but it was nice to see the greyhounds and their person!