So far, I think I’ve been asked about how Sydney is doing more often than myself. This is perfectly understandable, she did not choose to come here and living in a small apartment in a huge concrete jungle is not an ideal living condition. Both in coming here and in my day-to-day life, she is my first and foremost concern. When I was debating checking myself into the hospital last weekend because of the price, I asked myself if I would spend that much on Sydney if she were sick, and the answer was decidedly, “Yes.”
Aside from the long work days, the worst part about living here is not having a nearby park to go to. She’s fine with long walks, but it’s good to get her off leash and let her run around too. Also, all the dogs here are of the small, yippy variety–and from what I can tell–not very sociable. I had to go to a workshop today, but before I left I took Syd on a nice walk. We ran into one of the aforementioned small dogs, and for one of the first times since our arrival, the dogs were allowed to sniff each others’ crotch and ass to their hearts’ content.
When we arrived back from the workshop, I immediately got on my bike and headed home. Everyone else was standing around, asking each other what they wanted to do tonight, etc. When I said I was leaving, I got a few strange looks and for the umpteenth time, I had to explain, “I have to get home to my bitch.”* Yes, I have responsibility beyond work and myself. No, I’m not going to make Sydney wait one second longer than she must to go outside. Sydney is waiting for me at the door, and ready to jump all over me and play. That never gets old. She makes it very difficult to have a bad day when I come home to that.
I took her outside, past the disapproving doorman, to find more foreign teachers (from another school) congregating near the street corner. Their faces light up and I hear, “Wow! A big dog!” “A real puppy!” and the like. Only in Asia are Sydney and I are considered “big.” One girl, Clara, offers to walk my dog while I’m away after about 3 seconds of conversation. I was prepared to offer big bucks and/or sexual favors, but I kept that to myself for the time being. We then walked about a half an hour down to the Han River Park. It appears to be a thin sliver on the map, but a thin sliver in a city the size of Seoul turned out to be a huge chunk of real estate, and extremely vibrant. Syd and an off-leash Dachshund had a rather humorous exchange: the Dachshund chased and barked at Syd, she turned around to look at him, and the Dachshund ran away. This pattern repeated itself three or four times before we just decided to walk on.
After watching the sun set over the Han River, we found an undisturbed patch of grass, about 30 by 40 yards, and I let Sydney off leash for just the second time in Korea. If you’ve never seen Sydney run, you are missing out. She has a beautiful stride, it’s fast and graceful and she can make turns on a dime. When she runs with other dogs, she’ll outmaneuver the rare dog that is quicker than her, and she’ll outsmart the even rarer dog that is both quicker and more agile. While I’ve never wanted to own a farm, she almost makes me want to get a flock of sheep, just so I can watch her herd. She ran perfect laps around this small, open patch of grass, and when I called her over and asked her to sit, she did so with a huge smile on her face. While exiting the park, she looked up at me and smiled, as if to say, “Thanks Dad, I needed that.” Truth be known, we both did. When we got home, she ate and then collapsed, spread eagle on the floor. It’s always good to be the King, but some days, it’s great to be the Dog.
*One co-worker voiced her disapproval at my frequent usage of this phrase. I told her I didn’t say it for her enjoyment, I said it for mine. I think it’s funny, and will continue to say it.