Ping Pong Meets the Wagdee Pack

Ping Pong is a long-haired Chihuahua who has never in his life understood that he is small. In our Samut Prakan soi he barks at motorbikes, delivery vans and once, memorably, a plastic bag. So when I saw the announcement for a Wagdee meetup in a dog-friendly park, I almost did not go. I imagined chaos. I imagined apologising for him all afternoon.

We rode there on my scooter, Ping Pong in his basket with his cream ears flapping in the wind like two toffee flags. He loves the basket. He refuses to walk on wet ground, so I had also packed a small mat, because it had rained in the morning, and I carried him from the scooter to the grass with great ceremony.

The park was full of people I knew only by their profile photos. There was a Corgi who refused to move, a Husky who sang at every other Husky, a shy Shiba and a gigantic Great Dane called Bruno who looked at Ping Pong like a mountain looking at a pebble. Ping Pong barked at him, a long fierce speech that I think included my address. Bruno lowered his head, sniffed, and Ping Pong, to my surprise, walked straight under his belly. After that, they were friends. He spent the next hour hiding behind the big dog's front leg and barking at everyone else from a place of complete safety.

I learned more in one afternoon than in three months of internet reading. A lady with a Poodle showed me how to brush a long coat without tears. A man with a Lab explained where to find a good vet near our area. Someone brought homemade treats and I took a bag for Ping Pong, who sat on my lap and ate every single one with the dignity of a king. We also swapped names with another Chihuahua owner and made a plan for a small dog playdate.

On the ride home he fell asleep in the basket with his chin on the rim. For the first time in his life he did not bark at a single motorbike. I think meeting the pack made him feel bigger, which, for Ping Pong, is the only thing he ever wanted.