I felt stronger today than any day since I started running again. My quads ached as I ran, but not in a bad way, in that good way that tells you you are pushing yourself just the right amount. Yesterday I headed north to the commercial dock, so today I mixed it up a bit and headed south through the heart of Vaitape to just outside the town border. It was another slog along a busy road, and the views from this side of the island just aren’t nearly as majestic as the other. So, today, I paid attention to the dogs. Since it was mid-morning, a little later than I like to run, it was a bit warmer, and most of the dogs were just laying around. None of them paid any attention to me. None of them tried to sniff my butt.
There are a lot of dogs in French Polynesia, mostly large dogs that look mangy, not like anyone’s pets. In the Marquesas we met a guy named Albert who had a pack of dogs for hunting wild pigs. The dogs would bring down the pig and hold it (but not kill it) and then he would come over and slit its throat. The dogs looked strong, and Albert was obviously pleased with them. They also looked just on the verge of being underfed. He told us, “they don’t catch pig, they don’t eat.” I guess that’s motivation. In Makemo there were dogs everywhere, and the mamas were all hanging a little low like they’ve had more than a few litters. My friend asked one of the locals if the dogs were pets and they said no like she was a bit crazy. Then one of the other cruisers told us they eat the dogs. I was skeptical, but then Tim and a friend asked one of the locals they had gotten to know about it (seriously, I never would have had the guts to do that) and he confirmed that yes, some people do, in fact, eat the dogs. After that, whenever I saw a dog, I would tell it to run, run away, you don’t have to be dinner. But they live on a motu in an atoll, where would they go? Papeete was the only place we saw small dogs, carried around in bicycle baskets, so I assume they are pets, not dinner. On my run yesterday I passed a dog that caught my attention, because it was a little more plump than most and had a shiny coat, so I thought maybe it was cared for. As soon as I made eye contact with it it cowered, as if it thought I was going to hit it.
It’s certainly a different kind of relationship between man and dog than we are used to at home. I suppose it takes a certain amount of financial security and luxury to start treating animals like one of the family.
-D.
Gresham Family Exodus 