There are packs of wild dogs in Turkey. Yet wild is not quite the right word, as it connotes dangerous packs of dogs who jump people in the middle of the night and tear them limb from limb in a feeding frenzy. Here, they don’t seem to roam in packs and appear to be sedated, actually. They seem content to lie around all day, sleeping, and take handouts from local restaurants. Once in a great while, you see an actual pet, such as a dog with a collar and an owner taking it for a walk.
While walking around Göreme one morning, we met a young woman with a pet puppy. Turns out she is a Canadian traveling through the area on her way to other exotic locations when she came upon the half-starving, injured puppy. She decided to adopt the puppy and has been nurturing it back to health. She befriended a local family who rented her a very cheap room for the month she has to stay in Turkey to ensure the dog is rabies-free before taking him back to Canada, which she plans to do, abandoning the rest of her trip to rescue this dog.
Now that is youth for you, or that is a dog lover for you, or that is a youthful, dog lover, saving one dog at a time. I asked her if she wouldn’t also consider taking a dozen cats with her, but she admitted she wasn’t a cat person. So I guess that means I have to rescue the cats. Kevin thinks that the extra duffel bag we brought is full of gifts. Little does he realize it is full of cats that I plan to smuggle out of the country. At night, after he is asleep, I let them all out in the bathroom of whatever hotel we are in and feed them milk and cookies. I am up to 21 cats in the bag. I think I can get 32. Maybe 33 if they are small.
