Cookie was getting spayed today and, while The Wast and I were waiting at the vet’s for the operation to finish, two Chinese men walked in. One of the men wanted some medicine for his dog. The receptionist told them to wait while she got a vet. Here is a bit of their ensuing conversation:
Dog Owner: I was having some work done on my house and one of the workers was Vietnamese. My dog was so scared of him! Wouldn’t go near him.
Friend: (laughing) Really? Why, ah? Had he been to your house before? Did he kick your dog?
Dog Owner: No, he’s Vietnamese. He’d been eating dog meat and my dog could tell.
Friend: How? Looking at him, how can you tell if someone’s eaten dog meat?
Dog Owner: It must be the smell of the dog meat. Once you eat it, somehow the dogs can smell it on you and they won’t go near you. They’re terrified of you.
Friend: Vietnamese, ah? But I thought it was the Koreans who ate dog?
Dog Owner: Vietnamese, Korean. Even Indonesians eat dog.
Friend: Wah, really?
Dog Owner: There’s a tribe called the … (now it could be Datak or Patak or something like that. I don’t know Indonesia and I’m working from memory here so apologies if I got this wrong). They eat dog at special ceremonies. Actually, they eat cat too! Cat at the beginning of the year, dog near the end.
Friend: So, both dogs and cats run away from them?
Dog Owner: (laughing) Yeah, lah!
And all this time I was thinking, hey I thought it was you guys who ate dog! (Bruce Lee munches on one (spit-roasted and looking a bit tough, to be honest) in the park scene of “Fists of Fury”. And there’s also a mention of it in the Jean-Claude van Damme flick, “Bloodsport”.)
