The Great Puddle Standoff at Our Front Gate

Every rainy-season evening in Lat Phrao follows the same script. The sky goes grey around four, the storm drains gurgle, and by six there is a perfect brown lake right in front of our gate. Moo Deng, our Bangkaew, who is not afraid of anything on this earth, looks at that lake and sits down. Not near the lake. Firmly on the dry step, with her ears flat and her chin raised, like a lady refusing to board a boat.

For the first two years I simply carried her across. She weighs almost twenty-two kilos, so by the end of August my back was filing complaints. Then one Saturday I decided to be clever and tried to make a game of it. I put a few pieces of grilled chicken from the morning market on a dry brick and then another brick, like stepping stones, leading to the street. Moo Deng studied the bricks for a very long time. Then she walked all the way around the soi, through someone else's carport, and met me on the other side without getting a single paw wet. I did not know whether to laugh or applaud.

The motorbike taxi guys at the corner had watched the whole thing, and now they bring their own opinions. Uncle Daeng says she is a princess. Another driver says she is the smartest dog in the neighbourhood because she refuses to get dirty. I think she is simply stubborn, and she knows exactly how much chicken a clean paw is worth.

What finally worked was patience and a cheap pair of rubber boots for me, not for her. I stood in the shallow edge of the puddle, relaxed, chatting about nothing, and she watched me splash like a fool. After ten minutes she put one paw in, pulled it out and shook it with great offence. By the end of the week she was walking through the shallow ones. Deep lakes are still a hard no, and honestly I respect that.

A small practical note for other owners: after the walk I always rinse her paws and dry between the toes, because the water on our street is far from clean in the rainy season. When she had a little red patch between two toes last year, our vet said to keep the area dry and checked it, and it cleared up in a few days. So the standoff has a point, in its way.

Tonight it rained again, and she sat at the door sulking with her nose pressed to the glass. Then, at seven, the clouds cleared. She stood up, stretched, and trotted out as if nothing had happened. Of course.