Bauk And Deke

[orang37]

Bauk and Deke

Bauk is so tall that Deke could easily walk under him, his streamlined body suggests some whippet-afghan, while his broad and ugly face hint at boxer rebellions, and pit-bull contests. But that ridge along his back-side says : Thailand's in there ... somewhere in his genes.

Deke is all smiles, tail-wagging, ready to play, ready to mount your leg, perform a few ceremonial dry-humps, then dance ... on two legs ! ... with you half the way to Earth Mother Mae Noi's little convenience store where the local lao-kao lay-about brigade is usually half-crocked before the real heat of the day. He's built long and low for speed, carries his tail proudly as a regimental flag.

Bauk and Deke live with a Thai family who wash clothes for a living in a compound off a small Soi near Thanon Mai Poot in Chiang Mai.

Today, Deke looks like a loser in a Lumpini muay Thai bout; his left eye is swollen; he has multiple bite wounds on his back; his normally lustrous eyes look sad and bewildered. It could have been another wild night fighting for the favors of that very sexy black and white little number up the Soi or .... it could have been Bauk. Probably was Bauk ... again.

Here in Bauk and Deke's own words are their stories :

Bauk :

"My name is Bauk, although, if you are a local dog around here, I would strongly suggest you call me "Pii Jao Bauk" unless you would like my strong incisors to squeeze your miserable neck while I urinate on you.

My royal duties include walking, circling, marking, and defending my territory from all other male dogs who might even think about trying to get a little close to my bevy of bitches, my harem of cuties.

I have found, through experience, that the only way to keep order is to regularly use violence. About once a month I have to nearly kill one of these puny little wimps around here just to keep the rest in line.

I am very proud of my royal musk, and its power, and every week I spray around 200 or so local telephone poles, gates, doors, autos. Anywhere where another male dog has dared to leave its pathetic little aroma, there the piss-power of Pii Jao Bauk shall be generously applied so that there is no doubt who is the Master, and who shall vigourously penetrate (so to speak) any reproductive opportunities that (fragrantly) present themselves.

I came from near Phitsanulok, and while these local whelps whisper behind my back about how brutal I am (yes, I have my spies), they know nothing, let me tell you. I once killed two dogs who were each larger than me. It was me or them.

I know you're thinking : "Do I like violence ?"

The answer is "yes and no;" I'm getting older, and my lunges lack a little of their previous power.

I wonder if there will come a day when some little upstart like Deke will actually try and take me out. I use Deke for practice just to keep my skills sharp; he's such a fawning little lackey to humans who just can't seem to get enough of stroking his little head, and saying sweet little things.

There's a really stinking old Farang around here who gives me the willys : I'd bite him on principle, but he reeks of soy-milk, and there's something not quite right about him ... you know ... mental. That little whore Deke just loves to show for that old Farang, walking on two legs for him. What does he get for it ? Nothing ! I'd also love to get my jaws on that Farang's cat !

To really fight well, to take out another dog who's bigger than you, or who dares to piss-mark in your territory : that's Ecstasy. To have every bitch you see turn around and lift her tail, so you can inhale deeply the hints of coming pleasures; that's Power !"

Deke :

"Hello, my name is Deke, my mother was a local lady (unjustly accused of promiscuity by certain vicious rumour-mongers) who met my father, a noble dog, I am sure, on a full moon night when passions ruled : it must have been just like in the old songs. I never was told what happened to Papa. And what does a puppy need to know except : "where's Mama ?"

I love people, and I will never forget the happy days when I grew up with a wonderful family near San Patong.

The greatest thing I remember was when I was very young : they would take me on Saturday to the famous market for woo-a and khwai (oxen and water buffalo); how can I tell you the nearly mystical experience I had as my tiny puppy self sniffed the dark humid earthy odors of the giant powerful four-legs ! That memory is worth a hundred horse-fly bites, I tell you.

After my mother was run over by a pick-up truck, I came to live here on Soi Mai Poot ... about four years ago; at that time Pi Jao Bauk was just coming out of puppyhood, starting his reign of terror.

I remember my first day : as I ran around, excitedly sniffing the compound, Bauk ran out, and immediately bit me. I was scared, so I rolled over on my back, and let him nose-around my belly, and piss on me. The usual ritual of submission.

To my horror, he bit me again, instead of just playing with me, and then ... while I was yelping like crazy ... a human ran out and hit Bauk with a stick, and he whimpered and slunk off.

I am, myself, an accomplished fighter, taking after my father who, I was told, was famous for his twisting assaults to the head. But the brutal fact is that no doggy around here can whip Pi Jao Bauk, except the two-legs (humans) who do it regularly.

If a human comes to play with me, like that crazy old Farang who thinks he's mixed-up inside with an Orangutan, that friendly Farang who smells of soy-milk, and some other weird smell I've never sniffed on a Thai : Bauk immediately runs over : growls; threatens; tries to stand between me and my playmate.

But he backs down when the old Farang stares at him and stands his ground. Jealous if you ask me : doesn't have a real friend in the world if you ask me : Bauk I mean : not the Farang.

And if I should even look at a lady dog when he's around, he'll bite : I really think he would kill me if he weren't afraid of what the humans would do to him. There's no reasoning with him; if any bitch is in heat around here, he becomes frantic to mark everything with his pee, and kick every other male dog's ass.

Honestly, if I could, I'd leave the compound, head out to find some new human masters; I'd even live with that smells-of-soy-milk Farang, if push came to shove, but he's explained to me that, while he loves me, his heart belongs to his kitty cat who is a kathoey with a broken tail, and his kitty cat refuses to have a dog around. Well, that's a cat for you.

... mmmm ... chasing a cat : that's a good idea : excuse me ..."

[Thakkar]

"Nobody ever asks me about my story," sighed the cat.

[eek]

Can we get the cats tail tale please:D