Otis

 Sometime last night, somewhere in the early morning hours, still dark outside, I began to hear a dog crying outside my front door. The crying would wake me, go on for awhile, then stop. I would fall back asleep, only to awaken again to the same crying sound. It sounded to me as if perhaps the dog was merely hungry or cold or lonely, and so I just waited for the morning light. It is very difficult for me to stir myself from sleep, for I sleep the sleep of the dead, and function only as a zombie might when I finally do drag myself out of bed. 

Come 5 a.m., I gave up on further sleep, groaned myself out of bed, zombie-walked to the door, and found all four dogs on the doorstep. Jagger, Dixie, Loki and Otis. The first three immediately dashed into the house, anticipating food, but Otis did not move from beneath the chair beside the door. He did not stand when coaxed, did not want to eat, and soon began his crying again. 

At about 6, I notified the neighbors on the neighborhood WA line and soon someone showed up to collect Otis.

No one knows what happened to poor Otis. It does turn out, however, that he was not merely hungry, cold, or lonely. Somehow, as I am told, his left chest area had been injured, struck by something or someone. Was he kicked, or hit, or run over by a motorbike? No one knows. And of course Otis is not saying. 

I feel sorry for Otis, for he is the gentlest dog in the world--more than can be said for his ruffian siblings. He never hurts anyone or bothers anyone, but wants only to be petted whenever he's not busy grooming the other dogs. Isn't that just the way? 

Some are blaming an anonymous Gojek driver, saying that such drivers often dislike dogs, but no one actually saw anything happen. One of the neighbors, I believe, is planning to take Otis to the vet later, or at least get him some pain medicine. 

I've said it before and I'll say it again: It's a hard life for dogs here in Bali. One kind of has to expect from the outset that one disaster or another will overtake them.