Saturday Mornings at a Shelter in Samut Prakan: What Volunteering Taught Me

My first Saturday at the shelter, I arrived in clean white shoes. By ten o'clock they were brown, wet and permanently retired. That is the first thing nobody tells you about volunteering with rescue dogs: you will get dirty, and you will love it.

The shelter is a small place on the edge of Samut Prakan, a long yard with kennels, a tin roof that sings in the rain, and about sixty dogs, most of them from the street, some from owners who could no longer keep them. It is run by a retired schoolteacher, Khun Noi, and a rotating group of volunteers who come on weekends. I applied after seeing a post and came for what I thought was a single morning.

The work is not glamorous. I scrub water bowls, sweep, fold donated towels, hold dogs still for their tick treatment and walk the ones who are calm enough on leash. There is a very shy brown dog called Tong who would not look at me for three weeks. Then one Saturday he leaned against my leg while I was cleaning and stayed there for ten minutes. I did not move a muscle. A cleaning shift has never felt so important.

I have learned a few honest things. Not every dog will be adopted, and that is a hard truth. Some of the old ones will stay for years. The vets who come twice a month do remarkable work with very little money, and they always say the same thing: sterilisation is what really changes the number of dogs on the street, and every adoption matters. I try not to bring home a new animal every week, although I have a Siamese cat called Dao, who is quite enough for a small condo and judges my shoes carefully when I return.

If you would like to start, here is what I would suggest. Contact the shelter first and ask what they need, because many places prefer a regular commitment to a one-off visit. Wear closed shoes you do not love. Do not feed the dogs anything unless you have been told to, and wash your hands carefully between kennels, because illness can move quickly in a crowded place. Bring newspapers, old towels and dry food if you can, but ask first what is actually useful.

Some of my best friends are people I met there with a bucket in hand. Last month, Tong was adopted by a family from Bang Na. He did not look back. I cried in the car park, and then I went home and wrote this.