Business vs. Steerage (economy) Class

Business class ramp

"But I don't want to get off the plane!" I squealed. This is not something I ever dreamed of saying but after experiencing the luxurious accommodations of Asiana business class, my next flight in economy might make me cry.

Djorf wanted to surprise me by using his vast accumulation of flight miles (a mere 110,000 miles) to purchase two oneway tickets for Asiana business class for our final return flight from Shanghai. I have never flown business class so like a giddy child I have taken photos of everything, pressed every button I could find, ate everything I could, and drank enough champagne to drown in.

Almost completely flat reclining seat.

Let me just say, there is a reason a curtain is pulled to separate the haves and the have nots. If the commoners in the back of the plane knew what was going on up here on the "second floor," there might be a mutiny. The whole experience makes flying actually pleasant. I was in no rush, my bottom never fell asleep, I don't feel cramped, claustrophobic, my head didn't drop over onto the person next to me thereby saving them from a puddle of drool I surely would have deposited on their shoulder, I never got a crick in my neck, and I not once questioned the origin or expiration date of the delicious food placed before me. It was like being on a flying cruise ship except the alcohol is included.

Real Bloody Mary

Before we even got on the plane, we lounged in the Asiana Club munching on snacks and drinking wine. Then we leisurely walked over to the business class ticket collection area to the plane where there was no line, then strolled down our own ramp to the first/business class entrance. Unfortunately we did have to exert a little energy climbing the stairs to get up to the "second floor" of our plane before dropping gracefully into the reclining space pod looking seats. I chose the window seat which also boasts extra storage compartments we found out later and Djorf chose the aisle. There are only 12 total seats on the second floor, in comparison to the 12 seats in each row of economy class. When I stick out my legs straight, I can't even touch the seat in front of me.

Me at the top of the stairs on the plane.

This is where the button pushing began. There are 14 buttons alone that control my seat. It goes up, down, in, out, lumbar support, leg rest and support, and it reclines. The seat in front of me never moves and there wasn't a child in sight to even attempt to kick my seat or puncture the harmonious silence. The tv had tons of movies, games, shows, movies, and the flight show (my favorite because you can watch the airplane travel across the screen). I also have my trusty iPad in case I get bored with the inflight entertainment.

Just one of the many courses of our meal.

Moving on from the seat, we were given hot towels at every interval, slippers, lotions, lip gloss, and endless glasses of Mumm Napa Rose. Our menu for dinner consisted of seven courses and warm bread with olive oil and balsamic vinegar throughout. To start we had fried eggplant stuffed purée with tomato confit, followed by an appetizer of grilled king prawn with couscous and baby leaves asparagus. A mushroom cream soup was served piping hot and the main course was Toscana-style beef cutlet with marinated radicchio for me and grilled halibut with fettuccine-style vegetables for Djorf. Then came a cheese platter with Munster, Taleggio, and Compte, fruit, crackers, etc. But wait, there's more. A tasty apple tart and coffee/tea service was provided for dessert. Everything was served separately in real little white dishes, real silverware, and real glasses.

Perusing the menu.

After gorging myself like a gluttonous Roman on all this decadent food, I slept like a baby for about five hours until Loki barked and woke me up. Mean little doggie. He must have wanted me to wake up for breakfast.

Breakfast was almost as delightful as dinner. The feasting began with fresh rolls and croissants, followed by fruit and blueberry yogurt. The main course was a mushroom and egg omelette, potatoes, and grilled zucchini for me. Djorf had a seafood crepe with béchamel sauce and green beans. Coffee and tea? Yes please.

Jet-setting Pomeranian

I am now writing this post as we descend to Los Angeles where I will sadly deplane knowing this may be the last time I experience such luxurious surroundings. Even the toilets in business class stayed clean, spotless, and never smell bad. The flight attendants are perfectly coiffed and immaculately dressed. Finally, no one leaps unceremoniously from their seats knocking over the elderly and children to tear their luggage from the overhead compartments before the captain turns off the seatbelt sign. We all sit patiently awaiting arrival at the gate where we will exit on our own ramp. We wouldn't want the economy class seeing how well we have slept and ate indesguisable because of the bounce in our step. A truly lovely journey. Had I written from my usual seat amongst the have nots, this blog would have taken an entirely different tone and I would have been chanting, "Let me off, let me off, get me out of this godforsaken metal tube death trap." I adore flying...in business class.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Asiana Airlines Shanghai via Seoul to LA

Gym of Eternal Stench

I have tried to stay positive and wait a few days or weeks before writing a rather scathing review of the gyms but I cannot resist any longer. Like a festering wound, one might have contracted at said gym, I must warn the world of the potential harm and horror of the two gyms I encountered while trying to stay fit in Shanghai.

Upon arriving at the mega mall center of Xujiahui, which crawls with a million people frantically shopping or milling about wanting to be seen "shopping," you must travel up five escalators to the fifth floor in order to get to Physical, the gym. The first smell that reaches you is popcorn from the next door theater. Not something you want to smell when you are trying to lose weight. The next smell that assaults you is after you hand over your membership card, receive your locker key, and enter the gym. Mildew, stinky feet, BO, and boiled eggs permeate the air. Followed by what can only be described as the "bog of eternal stench" in the locker room.

The odor is not the only thing to accost your senses. Your eyes are in for a treat. Ladies wandering around eating and gossiping in the buff, who haven't seen a razor...ever. Hair dryers are used to dry more than just the hair on your head. Legs are lifted onto stools and every follicle is dried to perfection. Hannibal Lector style masks are worn while relaxing on lawn chairs in the spa area which also boasts some of the fiercest grout mold I have ever seen. Despite the attentive ayis sweeping the floor, body hair curly and straight carpets the floor.

Frantically I leap across unknown refuse and scurry around the chaos of screaming women on their cells phones in hopes of making it to my locker alive. As I pass by the open trash cans I see what looks like a feminine hygiene autopsy, thankful I didn't arrive in the locker room when it was happening in plain view. My locker had something wet inside so I hung everything on the bent metal coat hanger holding on for dear life to a hook threatening to give way at any moment. I made a swift escape to the door and out to the main cardio section of the gym.

The gym was a toasty 85 degrees Fahrenheit as I ascended the step to a rather rickety looking treadmill. The machine squealed in pain as I pressed the quick start button and belt began to move. I ran listening to the pounding music and Chinese instructor screeching out the steps for a nearby aerobics class.

Five minutes later and to say I was pouring sweat would be an understatement. I was drenched, I couldn't breathe, and the gyrating bodies of the belly-dancing class next to me we're starting to make me ill. The treadmill on my other side held a lady with plastic wrap strategically bound around her upper arms, legs, and midsection in hopes of making them thinner. Much to my despair, she proceeded to peel off the plastic wrap flinging sweat in all directions. And I thought my own sweat was gross.

Thankfully after 20 months my membership at Physical ended and I signed up at Will's Gym, which is also closer to my apartment futilely believing things might be better. I was terribly wrong.

Because the gym was closer, I never had a bag with me so I did not venture into the locker room. Despite being much smaller than Physical, Will's still did not attempt to use the air conditioner at all. Each time I went to the gym, I would have to ask them to turn on the air. The final and last straw occurred when they refused to turn it on because a chubby man behind me on the elliptical machine claimed to be cold. I was at my wits end and cried out in distress, "But I am extremely hot and the air used to be on when I started running. If he is cold he can put on a sweatshirt. I can't take off any more clothes or I will be naked." My pleas fell on deaf ears. I whined a little bit more and they feigned to care and turned on the fan. That was my final day at Will's.

What have I learned? Even though the gyms are just as expensive as in other countries, you do not get what you pay for. In the future I will purchase a treadmill for my home and crank the a/c. If you like the heat and can handle less then hygienic conditions, gyms in Shanghai are the place for you.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Shanghai

Scooter Barbie

There is nothing like feeling the wind rush through your hair as you speed past the clusters of cars in a traffic jam. I often pretend I am in a video game. Other scooters, bikes, buses, taxis, pedestrians, and small dogs, come barreling across my path from every direction. Complete chaos ensues. I dart in and out of the these obstacles, blonde ponytail streaming. Scooter Barbie breaks for no one!

Unlike a video game, I only have one life. One collision and it could be game over. But driving slow and following the rules confuses the other drivers on the street, making it more dangerous. When you drive in Shanghai, it is full speed ahead. Pausing, letting someone in, being polite, stopping at a red light, is more likely to cause an accident then prevent one. Signs and traffic lights are merely suggestions. Why study, practice and pass a test to earn a driver's license if one can be bought? You don't even need a license for a scooter. Needless to say, it is a concrete jungle out there.

I adore my scooter, purple Vespa knock-off that it is. Luckily I purchased this beauty near the beginning of my first year. After school one day, a group of us went to a hole-in-the-wall scooter store with our friend Jeff who introduced us to PunYo (I will check on his exact name). He eagerly greeted us and proudly hustled us over to the scooter display. Because we were buying multiple scooters, they would be at a better price. Shiny and new, a variety of styles, how were we to choose? I originally wanted a baby blue color but that would have required waiting until the next day so it could be delivered from PunYo's other shop. Compulsive buying and instant gratification are two of my many vices. I had to have a scooter now!

After test-driving a few and deciding on a color: Vanessa silver-grey, Krystle canary yellow, Zach grey and black, and Easter egg purple for me, Jeff discussed the prices with PunYo. Each of us had cup holders and side mirrors attached while we walked to the ATM to extract our cash. 3200 RMB was my bargain price. Compared to the USA, this was cheap! I was thrilled!

Then it started to pour! This was a bit of an issue because I had never ridden a scooter before, rain or shine. PunYo provided us with special raincoats that draped over the front of our handlebars strategically allowing us to steer, turn on our headlights (it was now dark as well), and most importantly they kept us fairly dry. I strapped on my massive white helmet, complete with red communist star on the front and wobbled along in the scooter/bike lane squealing and screaming every time a car zoomed by. Officially we were known as a rough-rider Scooter Gang.

From then on I was scooter-bound. I mapped out routes and only went to restaurants and shops that were close enough for my scooter radius. I quickly learned the tricks of the trade. You can ride down the wrong way on the street or the sidewalk for that matter. Speeding by the police or driving down no-scooter-allowed streets really is ok as long as you wave and smile at the officers trying to tell you to go another way. You can cross traffic, talk on your cell phone, and cut everyone off without once considering switching on your turn signal. What are those extra buttons for anyway? And the most effective technique is constant honking. Honk if someone gets in your way, honk, because you're ticked off, honk, because someone might get in your way, honk, because you're running a red light, honk, to say hello, honk if you see a cute dog (or a dog in hideous clothes) and honk just because you're in China and honking is what they do best.

Now the only problem was my dog, Loki. How could he enjoy the benefits of scooter travel. He is already a jet-set pet, so why not scooter-dog too. First I attempted to have Loki ride between my feet like I had seen some locals doing with their dogs, grocery bags, and horrifyingly enough, toddlers. This worked once, then Loki fell off and rolled, quite gracefully I might add, to a stop. I wasn't going very fast, thank goodness, but Loki's perilous journeys would come to a standstill until I could find a safer mode of transport.

Fortunately I discovered a pooch pouch at Taikang Lu market, which resembles a back pack but goes in the front. All the shop had was bright orange which totally clashes with pastel purple, but Loki was finally deemed fit for safe scooter travel. Scooter Barbie and Pom Pom Loki warped to the next level adding a new obstacle of terror - the driver swivel head - people would stop dead in their tracks to stare as we flew past.

The final stage of scooter ownership is Scootershop stardom. PunYo has a poster-sized photo of him with a cheesy grin, his arms wrapped around my friend Shannon and me sitting on two of his scooters plastered on the wall of his store for all to see. I will truly miss the feelings of immortality you can only experience driving a scooter in Shanghai.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Shanghai

New Balance 8K Run for Fun

My first outdoor race! The 8K Jinqiao run is the beginning of my love of running with a group of people. The race took place this past Sunday. Djorf and I shared a taxi with our friend Shannon because Jinqiao is out in the "suburbs" of Shanghai. We met Team Taco at Cantina Agave and prepared to race to the finish line.

It all began one fateful evening (the same evening Loki was lost) at Cantina Agave in the French Concession after multiple margaritas and shots of tequila quickly downed to dull the pain and celebrate a post Brazilian wax. Shannon and I signed up for the 8K and I signed up Djorf, unbeknownst to him of course. Shortly thereafter the race was forgotten until the week before the event.

Mustached and ready to run

I had done no training, had not run in months, and needed to get fit fast. Normally I prefer to run indoors on a treadmill, at a specific pace, in a controlled air conditioned climate, a fan blowing on me, and my iPod on to drown out the sounds of other humans in the vicinity. If only Apple made something to eliminate the smell. I have been doing Zumba twice a week for the last few months and I am in relatively good shape even without exercise. So I got to work, and ran for half an hour after my Zumba class on Wednesday, I ran for an hour on Thursday and Friday, took Saturday off and was as ready as I'd ever be for the race on Sunday. (Poor Shannon had completely spaced the race until two days before but she still wanted to go.)

The cost was a killer deal for 300 RMB. It included payment for the race, donation to some charity, a t-shirt with Team Taco on it, and a Mexican food buffet after the race with....more margaritas...but of course!

Shannon and Me

When we arrived at Cantina Agave Sunday morning, and donned our snazzy baby blue t-shirts, fake mustaches, and posed for a few photos, we trotted over to the start line. There were 8,000 people running the race and everyone was jammed together, it was a disaster! I despise being squashed by crowds, but the electrifying excitement of the all the people getting together for fun and a good cause quelled my claustrophobic fears.

The crackle of a firework (surprise surprise, we are in China) started the race. The masses surged forward. No one was running yet, just a jerky jaunt. As we filtered out the bottle-neck and made the first right onto the blocked off road which was our racecourse, the crowd thinned slightly and the race was on!

Senor Djorf

ññAs the runners spread out, I had a better idea of what type of people run these types of races. I was originally under the impression that I might be one of the last to crawl across the finish line but I actually did quite well at 53 minutes. There were people of all sorts, ages, cultures, body types, and athletic abilities. Some people were dressed in costumes, some had dogs, one man carried a child on his shoulders the entire time.

As we rounded another bend, the first water station was in sight. If only I was so lucky. Unfortunately instead of the water I needed desperately, they were handing out bottles of sickeningly sweet and syrupy Vitamin Water. Nasty! To make matters worse, people were taking a few sips and throwing the majority of the liquid and bottle onto the grass by the side of the road. A complete waste and tons of trash. It's probably a good thing there was no water, because after the coffee and two bottles of water I drank before the race, I had to pee like a race horse, LOL.

The kilometers went by quickly and it wasn't long before the end was in sight. Thank goodness for songs like Stronger by Kelly Clarkson, Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO and Someone I Used to Know by Gotye which played over and over again kept me going.

Instead of counting off by kilometers, the signs being held up were counting down in meters, 780, 640, 530, 370, and then the finish line. I picked up my speed and made it just as the numbers on the clock switched from 52:99 to 53:00. Success!

And then, off to margaritas and Mexican Buffet!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Jinqiao, Shanghai

TJ also stands for Tianjin

Separation anxiety from the driver

Djorf's old stomping grounds were located in the clean, modern, smaller (only 10 million people) city of Tianjin. We took a fast train, 35 minutes from Beijing and a quick taxi ride to our much improved living quarters, Modena Service Apartments in the heart of Tianjin. The taxi was scary as I felt I was in jail. It was fairly late and I was exhausted after our day in Beijing so I went to bed.
The place we stayed was amazing after the run-down nasty place we stayed in Beijing. The beds had actual mattresses, springy, forgiving, soft, bouncy, fluffy, blissful, I could go on. I slept like a baby.

Patriotic beer on the Train

One of the first things I noticed about the people is that they seem even more angry when they talk then people in Shanghai. Every tone and syllable out of their mouths cuts like a knife. Every word seems to be yelled at you. Djorf assures me they aren't screaming and this is just the way of TJ's inhabitants. I don't know if I believe him because I already bungle the few Mandarin words I do know, and if the situation was reversed, I might also be frustrated with the laowai who continuously butchers every language she tries to speak, even her own. Oh how I wish I was multilingual like my wonderful fiancé.

Our day in TJ was uneventful. We slept in, ate a nice buffet breakfast which was included with our room, and wandered around. Djorf and I spent an hour at the bank trying to close his account and retrieve about $150 but a passport was not considered good enough documentation for the bureaucratic nightmare of banking in China. Djorf needed his "little red book" or his ATM card, neither of which he had and it takes seven days to get those replaced. He could only get all this done at this specific branch of ICBC in Tianjin, nowhere else. All attempts were futile, and we left dejected failures.

Earlier that day, I noticed that some fraudulent activity was taking place with my PayPal account. Payments were being made to people I didn't know without my permission. I called PayPal customer service using Skype to clear everything up. I proceeded to have one of the best conversations with someone who truly cared about my satisfaction. I used to get so frustrated with customer service when I lived in the States but after being on the receiving end of some of the worst customer service in the world, ICBC Bank in Tianjin, I have a whole new appreciation of those lovely people on the other end of the line. They speak to you nicely, they help you, they wish you well, and hope you have a wonderful evening. Many people take these do-gooders for granted. Never again, I say! If only knew how lucky they were to have a number to call.

After the bank we went to the lounge of the Tangla Hotel. It was very nice and I felt brave enough to order a Bloody Mary. This was a mistake, as it usually is in China at any bar that is not owned by an expat. The Chinese just cannot create a Bloody Mary. Mine tasted like nothing I have ever had before. It was similar to salad dressing, sweetish, sourish, slimy. I should know better but I had to try. The Singapore Sling I had next hit the spot. This was the beginning of a long evening bar hopping around TJ.

Special drink offered at Bar Pepper

Helen's is a well-known and popular bar near several universities in China. We met Djorf's friends from his previous school here for some cheap beer and snacks. Afterwards we went to AJO which is a bar owned by a group of expat men who started a fraternity not unlike the men in the movie Old School. In order to get there we followed some interesting directions: make your first left past the police station, turn right at the first intersection, then right again past the 7-11 when you see the rhino. A rhino? We saw two rhinos and almost turned at the wrong rhino. We made it safe and sound and I had a good laugh that some of Djorf's students were in the bar with other kids who could not have been more than 15 years old. Where were their parents?
The next place was a bar named Sitong where Djorf went almost every weekend. It was nicely decorated, full of Chinese people, and a Philippino cover band which serenaded us with local favorites like Waiting for You by Richard Marxx and Hero by Enrique Iglesias. I was having a grand time but the others decided the music and atmosphere were not to their liking.

Djorf asked the taxi driver to take us to another bar, his choice, so we ended up at Bar Pepper and some girlie bar named Jack's Jack's. All played a hilarious selection of music ranging from Leonard Cohen to Celine Dion. Our final stop of the night was Procope where we decided after a beer was accidentally poured on the table and then into our plate of fries, we should probably go home.

Just a hot pocket

The airport was another adventure. We decided to stop for a beer and a snack before our plane ride home. I think I will miss the funny English translations on menus the most. In the photo you will see a menu item "According to Burn Bacon Bag." What in the world is that? We had to order it and find out. See other photo of what ended up just being a boring meat pie. And finally, the waitress warned us it was hot, but hot enough to melt our plastic fork?!?! Help!

Melted fork

I now sit on a plane awaiting takeoff returning to Shanghai. I look forward to seeing my little dog and going out for dinner with him to Piro. Zaijian Beijing and Tianjin.

Beijing Part 2 On Our Own

I am rather upset because my recent blog: Beijing Part 1 The Tour has vanished and I am not in the mood to rewrite it right now. Maybe it can be found somewhere in cyberspace and until I try to locate it, I will continue with the story.

As the title implies, we were on our own to explore Beijing today. I had dutifully questioned Jason, our guide from yesterday, and made copious notes on our map about which metro routes to take, which stops to exit, and in which order we should see the following landmarks: Temple of Heaven, Forbidden City, and Summer Palace. We needed to get up early, which didn't happen, and get an early start because we were literally going from northeast Beijing to central, then northwest, then northeast again to pick up our luggage, and then to the train station in the south. The plan was to take the metro as much as possible. We made two trans-Beijing trips via metro and then spent several hours in a taxi. Beijing is not at all like Shanghai, compact and vertical, it is spread out and it takes forever to get anywhere especially when there's traffic.

Temple of Heaven

First stop, Temple of Heaven. This altar and surrounding buildings is where the emperors of the past prayed to the heavens for a bountiful harvest. The Hall of Prayer is a three tiered round building beautifully painted and carved. It was probably my favorite. The Circular Mound Altar was interesting to visit as well due to the large group of "spring break" Chinese students standing in the middle singing the Party Rock Anthem, obviously a new form of harvest ceremony. Let's keep those traditions alive! Of course, in the past, even the smallest mistake made by the emperor performing the ceremony was a bad omen ensuring disaster for the entire nation in the upcoming year. I guess it wasn't all fun and games to be the Son of Heaven. I also bought a momma and a baby crocheted dragon from some ladies in the park nearby. Very cute!

Me in between the Doors

Second stop, Forbidden City. The only thing I have to say about this place is HUGE! We took a taxi to the north gate near the museum and were not sure if we were even in the city. We got on a tram excitedly hoping it would take us around inside the Imperial City but it only took us back out the gate to the road. Apparently that was the end of the trip and we were pushed off the tram by new passengers boarding. I guess we should have known 1 kuai wouldn't get us very far. So we got back on the tram and went back inside the gate where we walked around a bit. The builds were impressive and for a guided cage it wasn't too bad. I wouldn't have minded living there as long as someone carried me around in a jiao or palanquin (chair carried on the shoulders of other people).

Anna, Mao, Me

Third stop, Summer Palace. By this time we were exhausted and hungry. This royal summer vacation home was on even more extensive grounds and built on and around very steep Longevity Hill. A pristine Kunming Lake sits at the bottom of the mountain and the view of the surrounding hills is breathtaking. This was by far my most favorite place in Beijing. Winding paths snaked up the hillside to palaces, temples, pavilions, halls, bridges, and one very long corridor. We strolled around enjoying the scenery but in reality we were frantically searching for food since we hadn't eaten all day. Some rice cake things and beer made us feel a little better. We were feeling quite accomplished after our outing today and ready to go to Tianjin.

Beautiful Summer Palace

But what will forever be known as the Beijing Incident, put a dark cloud over our final experience in the prestigious capital city. Upon exiting the Summer Palace, we were accosted by people selling tourist trinkets like Mao hats, weird little glasses with noses and mustaches attached that would blow out sideways. They are difficult to describe. I instantly stepped away from the hawkers and tried befriending a stray puppy. While I was petting the pooch, Mike and Anna were bargaining for a Mao hat, army green with a red star on the front. Something shady happened during the transaction and Anna's 100 RMB note was switched for a very obvious fake. She didn't notice right away. Shortly thereafter, I wanted to buy a hotdog for my newfound four legged friend. A man popped out of nowhere to sell me the hotdog. Djorf gave him a 100 RMB note but then I found 10 RMB note to pay with instead. Quick as a flash, Djorf's bill was switched for a fake and he noticed it right away, demanding the original back. Then Djorf asked Anna to see her money, low and behold, another fake. The lady with the hats was long gone of course and the wiener man had also vanished. We tried to cause as much of a scene as possible but it was useless. The whole group of hawkers was probably in on the scam. All the people selling those weird masks just stared at us, looking very clown-like and disturbing. I despise masks. Considering this is the first time in two years anything like this has happened to me, I wasn't upset for too long. We had a good laugh, cursed the group of cheats for the scum of the earth that they were, then hoped the 100 RMB would feed their families, grabbed a cab and were off to the train station and Tianjin.

Our trip to Beijing was short but sweet. We accomplished a lot in just a few days. Now I won't feel foolish for living in China for over a year and never seeing the Great Wall. I have born witness to some of the most important sites in China and am prepared to leave without regret.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Loki's Triumphant Return

The door slammed shut with a deafening crash. The wind howled through the streets and apartment complex, rattling windows and doors, making the whole building shudder. Lightning flashed and lit up the sky, followed by booming roars of thunder, and torrential rain. Where had the sunny day gone? The weather forecast said nothing about this freak typhoon. Imagine this as the setting for Loki's return.

The night began with an amazing homemade Indian dinner at our friends' apartment in our old complex in Gubei. Sumptuous chicken, delicious vegetables, cheese cake and berries for dessert, and drinks.

Djorf's phone rings. "Ni hao?" The conversation continues and we ascertain that someone has called about Loki. In twenty minutes we are supposed to meet this strange man near our home by the police station. We said our hurried goodbyes to Archena and Andrew, thanking them profusely for the tasty meal, promising to text them if this dog was the real Loki.

In the pouring rain we hailed a taxi and sped off to the meeting place. As Djorf and I stood in the rain, feelings of doubt raced through my mind. Is this some kind of cruel prank? Did someone steal another dog that is just a Loki-look-alike? Will he even show up?

First Contact

After a few eternal minutes in the rain, a car pulls up. A nice-looking Chinese man steps out and waves us over. In the back seat of the car is a little boy, his son, and in the front seat...Loki! I have never felt so much relief and emotion wash over me. I was elated seeing my little dog safely kept and loved by his family of three days. I learned that the man had picked Loki up after seeing him on the street Friday morning. They had kept Loki safe, loved him, and fed him (maybe a little too much food, he has gained several pounds). Then Monday, his wife saw one of the posters so he called us. The man's wife and son were devastated to see Loki go home but knew it was the right thing to do. We told the man's son he could come visit Loki whenever he wanted. I am so thankful to have my baby-dog back.

We gave him the reward money and hopefully he will get his son a dog. I can't believe how lucky I am to have Loki back. I won't ever let him out of sight or off his leash again. I need to remove all the posters and email everyone who helped me. All their hard work and mine paid off. There are some good people out there.

Loki's homecoming is one of the happiest moments of my life.