Essaouira | 17th Sept 2021
I’m a sucker for a run at sunrise. It’s already warm when I pull myself out of bed in the Air B&B I’m sharing with my Dad and sister and head down to the beach. It’s quiet but there are a few people with the same idea as me – enjoying the peace of the beach before the heat of the day sets in.
I stop running often to take in the stunning rising sun, watch the gulls and simply take in the beauty around me. I’m enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of Essaouira much more than the noisy bustle of Marrakech. But then the peace is broken. One of the stray beach dogs comes running towards me barking. The brown and tan dog is only small but I’m wary nonetheless. It’s unusual behaviour for the usually shy strays to approach like this and I wonder if I’ve crossed her territory.
I stop running and stand still, talking calmly to her. She continues to yap for a minute and then moves away. I’m puzzled by what she was trying to communicate but mainly I’m relieved she has left me alone. I love dogs and I’m mossing Brew Dog, who is being cared for back in Britain, but I’m naturally wary of strays.
Persistence
It’s been tough to be honest, seeing so many stray dogs and cats and mistreated horses and donkeys in our time here. Not to mention the monkeys and snakes used to lure the tourists into photographs in the souks. There really is no reason not to be kind to animals, whether you like them or not. Most of these animals only approach you however when they think you have food. I wonder about the little dog and her choice to run up to humans.
Reaching a turning point on the beach I decide to head back for breakfast. And then, I see her again. This time the little brown dog is approaching another couple. Barking again, running forward, then ducking away. I stop and watch. She’s not being aggressive, she’s inviting play. She spots me watching and runs over. This time I can see it – the twinkle in her eyes. The desire for fun.
She chews at my shoes and dances round me. After a short while I start to run again. She falls in beside me. It’s getting hot now and I’m covered in a sheen of sweat. I take my first photos of this little brown whirlwind.
And this is where the story (usually) ends
I’m charmed by the dog. At home Brew Dog and I run together most days. She has clearly been sent to be my company while I’m abroad. We trot along together for almost a mile. A few minutes before I finish my run two male strays appear. They’re bigger than my friend and clearly interested in her. ‘Go’ I say to her, ‘be safe’. She trots off the other way. Away from me and the danger of the other dogs.
Finishing my run I spot my sister, Siân walking onto the beach. ‘Nice run?’ she asks. ‘Beautiful, and a little brown dog ran with me. She was so cute!’. I get my phone out to show my Siân the photos but she’s looking over my shoulder. ‘This little brown dog?’ she asks.
And there she is again. Trotting back to me as if to announce ‘here I am!’. Little was I to know this was the best recall I’d ever get from her!
But now it’s my turn to leave her. I pet her for a while but need to go back and shower. My sister is heading to hire a surf board. The little dog, sensibly, doesn’t follow us across the busy road but I can feel a disappointment from her as we walk away.
Click here to watch our first run
Back to the beach
Later that morning my Dad and I head down to the beach. My sister is practising her questionable surf skills. We had our first surf lesson together and both loved it. I’m happy with sunbathing today though. Of course, you know what happens next, don’t you?
The little brown dog appeared. I spot her making her way along the beach, greeting as many people as she can. I’ve never seen such loving confidence in a stray before. All I can think of is all the people who must have shooed her away in her short life, perhaps even cursing her and throwing things. And yet here she is, still happily introducing herself to strangers.
She spots Dad and I and sees a safe space. Soon she is settled beside us and here she remains for two hours. She drinks water from my cupped hands but mainly she simply seems to want the company.
Now it’s really goodbye
We’re leaving Essaouira today and heading back to Marrakech. It’s time to say goodbye to the little brown dog.
It’s just a dog, right? One of hundreds of strays in this town alone. You can’t save them all. I already have a dog at home. A dog who doesn’t like other dogs. And I don’t have a clue how I would even start thinking about bringing a dog back from Morocco. Wait…what?! Where did that thought come from?
On the long bus ride back to Marrakech these thoughts tumble around my head. We only have a couple more days in the country before flying back to England. How would I even find the little dog again? I can’t go back to Essaouira before we leave and I don’t know anyone there.
Reconnected to wifi I open Instagram on my phone. Already there are a few comments on a photo I put up with the little dog. ‘Bring her home Cadi’, ‘set up a GoFundMe’. I don’t really need the encouragement but here it is anyway. I type in a search ‘dog rescue Essaouira’ and bingo! I hit upon the person who is going to start me on my journey to bring my little dog home.
Moroccan Ruby Dog
The story starts the same. English woman visits Essaouira and has her heart stolen by a dog. But somehow this dog is now in England, with the English woman. It’s two days since I met my little dog and I can’t get her out of my mind. Without mentioning it to my family I drop Ruby’s owner, Jess, a message on Instagram explaining how I met my dog and asking for advice on how I can bring her home.
The power of social media and the kindness of strangers sparks a reaction. In no time at all I receive a reply. ‘Hi Cadi! This is incredible! Beldi* are the absolute best dogs in the world. I’ll dig out everything I can find today. Thank you so much for reaching out! Please keep sending me questions, I am more than happy to help and share advice.
P.S. did you do the same silly thing I did and give her a name yet?’
The truth is, I have. I’ve not said it out loud to anyone yet but she’s always had a name. The wifi of the Air B&B we were staying in had a word in which I liked. When I looked it up it turned out it meant ‘the God of mischief’. Perfect. And that’s how Loki got her name.
Loki Dog of Mischief
She may have a name but I have no way of finding her yet. Jess sends me a name and contact number for someone called Shiv, who may be able to help. Over the next couple of days Shiv passes me to Magda. Magda passes me to Corinne. Corinne passes me to Valerie. Valerie passes me to Nicole. Nicole can help but she’s away. She puts me in touch with an ex-pat in Essaouira; Rachel.
Rachel walks her dogs along the beach most days. She messages ‘I know your dog. She does not like my dogs too much. She normally stays alone and follows people. I have not seen her for a few days. But I will look for her.’
My hopes are raised but I’m worried she hasn’t been seen for a few days. I’ve now heard horrific tales of the stray dogs being rounded up by the dog catcher and killed. Often poisoned. It feels so urgent now that I locate her quickly. I assure Nicole and Rachel I will pay all Loki’s vet and care bills once she is found. The people who care for animals here pour all their heart and funds into what they do. They can’t be burdened by my whim.
The days feel long. Six days after I met Loki I am sent a video. She was seen at a beach cafe this morning (Sept 23rd) by a local who knows people are looking for her. She’s alive! But not yet safe.
I don’t have to wait much longer though. The message I’ve been waiting for comes on the 24th. It is a photograph. Nicole in the front of a car. Loki in the back seat behind. The journey has begun!
But it’s only the start…
‘Dad, I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve decided to rescue that dog I met on the beach. I’ve got someone picking her up and people helping me to bring her home.’
I hear a small sigh from my Dad but he says something I’ll never forget. ‘I can’t really say anything. It’s the way I raised you.’
And then he asks how he can help.
And so, the journey begins to bring Loki home.
*Beldi is the name given to all mixed breed dogs in Morocco. It means traditional, rural or natural.
