Written and photography by Aimée Zermatten
As I sit and write this on the couch with Ron asleep, his head on my lap, I can’t help but be grateful to all the people who’ve helped me to get him here. I am sorry for all the hush around how I got him into South Africa, as well as not telling everyone about him leaving again. I was unnecessarily scared that someone, somewhere would want to take him away for not entering South Africa “legally”. Now that he’s safe with me in our home in Northern Ireland, I can finally tell you about the journey we’ve been through.
On Friday, the 4th of May 2018, I picked up a stray puppy while making my way home; he was running in the middle of the road and wouldn’t move out of the way. Stray puppies/dogs and cats are not uncommon on the streets of Thailand, and as the manager of a stray dog sterilisation clinic, my intentions were not to keep him. Our aim as a sterilisation clinic was to reduce the number of stray dogs in Thailand through sterilisation, education and, only in certain cases, adoption. This puppy was in no way different from the hundreds of dogs I’d encountered during my time in Thailand, and he was, actually, in far better condition than most.
Saturday 5th May - Pup gets a full vet check-up
The puppy was sterilised on the following Monday as planned, and I was to return him to the streets where I’d found him. However, for some inexplicable reason, I decided that this puppy would stay fostered with me and I’d find him a home locally. The volunteers named him Ronald, and he loved life as an office dog! In the afternoons, Ronald and I would hop on the scooter for a short drive home and then take a stroll to the beach and/or a local restaurant where everyone came to know him as “Khai Dow”, which means “fried egg” in Thai.
RON TAKES ON A THERAPY ROLE
What I didn’t know at the time was that Ron would become my emotional support therapist. Before I moved to Hua Hin, I was teaching English in Phuket. I’d moved there with my boyfriend at the time, but unfortunately, things didn’t work out between us. I moved to Hua Hin shortly after the break-up and started a new job with no support structure, no friends or family, and still incredibly heartbroken. Before Ron, my evenings were spent alone. I didn’t have the energy or motivation to get out of bed on the days I wasn’t at work. Without going into too much detail, all I can say is that I was emotional and homesick… and then there was Ron. I was forced to get up early and take him for a walk, to get dressed and get out of the house, when all I wanted to do was lie in bed. Ron needed me, but I needed him more!
Our life was filled with great long walks, camping near the ocean, beach days and rainy days cuddling in bed. On the days when I felt homesick or had a bad day at work, Ron would always cuddle up with his head in my neck as I lay there. He sensed my sadness and did everything he could to comfort me, sometimes even being silly. He made me forget about everything else and only live in that moment with him.
Panburi forest park, don't be fooled... Ronald hates heights so I had to carry him up the stairs to get this photo
After working at the sterilisation clinic for over a year, I felt that I wasn’t the right person for the job – I was constantly stressed and anxious. On the 11th of July 2019, everything came crashing down at once. When I handed in my three months’ notice, I was terminated with only two weeks’ notice. This meant that my visa wouldn’t be extended and that I had to be out of Thailand by the 8th of August.
ON A MISSION TO BRING RON HOME
With less than a month to plan and only R35,000 saved for Ron AND me, I panicked! I knew that I had to bring him home to South Africa with me.
I started an online crowdfunding page to help get Ron home, and immediately the support I received was overwhelming. People from all over the world and friends I hadn’t spoken to in years donated, as did family who were eager to meet Ron. Then there were donations from people who, although they’d never met me, knew and felt the bond that Ron and I shared. They could relate to the love and bond they had for their own pets.
I’d done my research regarding everything needed to get Ron to South Africa and began the process. Off we went to Bangkok to get blood tests. R11,500 later and we’re back in Hua Hin, eagerly awaiting the test results that were sent to Singapore. While waiting for the results, I paid a pet transport company a non-refundable deposit of around R4,700. It was happening; all the steps were in place and the donations were coming in to enable me to get Ron home.
Then the news came: Ronald had failed his blood tests. There was the option to retest, and this time, instead of sending the blood to Singapore to test, I had to send it to Onderstepoort, South Africa. No vets in Thailand were willing to send the blood to South Africa for testing. Apparently, South Africa has very strict customs clearance procedures, and this meant vets refused to deal with them. I learnt that should Ron fly to South Africa and test positive again for brucella canis, he’d be “destroyed”. The news sent me spiralling into desperation. I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him behind, nor could I stand the thought of them “destroying” him upon arrival.
My plans and steps and lists and everything went out the door; the money was non-refundable, and I was now without a plan and without a way to ensure my dog would get to South Africa safely. I was frantic. I job searched in countries that had the easiest/cheapest option for Ron. I honestly didn’t care where I might end up, so long as I ended up with him.
The months flew by, and before I knew it, my visa expired and it was time to leave. Saying goodbye to Ron was difficult, but I knew that it wouldn’t be for long. I wouldn’t allow it! I couldn’t live without him. I booked Ronald into the best kennel facility – with air-conditioned indoor kennels and huge runs – that I could find and afford. He went to PetTime, where he was already familiar with some of the staff who sometimes sent updates three to four times a day. Although it hurt to not have him with me, I was grateful that he was in a safe place.
When I arrived in South Africa, the planning continued. I looked at Botswana, Mozambique, and then finally... ZIMBABWE! Wait, what? Zimbabwe? Well, Zim didn’t have the same strict import requirements for dogs as South Africa did, and I was able to get a company in Thailand to book a flight for Ron to Harare. They sorted all the paperwork and export documents. I then secured a company to provide clearance and customs documents for Ron’s arrival in Zimbabwe. Okay, so here I thought, at least he’s nearby. I can live in Zimbabwe, right?
The five-hour time difference between South Africa and Thailand meant I was waking up at 2:30 in the morning to be able to communicate with the agents in Thailand. Weekends felt like weeks without being in contact with the different agencies and arranging documents. After weeks of planning, things started to look brighter. A company called Relo4paws was to pick Ron up from the boarding kennels and get him on his flight to Zimbabwe via Ethiopia.
Planning the trip to Zimbabwe presented another hurdle. This is where Gavin came to the rescue. Gavin and I had met a few months earlier, and he came and spent two weeks with me in Thailand. During this time he got to know, and grow very fond of, Ron. He offered to drive me to Harare to fetch Ron and then drive us all back again – all of this during a xenophobic flare-up. I didn’t want to think about it; I felt like everything was finally in place and now this! I didn’t want to read the news or switch on the TV. Things were getting pretty bad in South Africa, and I was worried and warned that they were targeting South Africans for “revenge”. I later learned that this was not the case. (During our short stay in Zim, the people were welcoming and kind.)
Gavin carrying a very scared Ron up steep steps on one of our hikes in Thailand
Armed with a man, a 4x4, a tent and some dollars, we left for Zim. We drove to just before the border and camped the night in a local campsite so that we could get to the border early the next day (the 5th of September), leaving some time to fill five jerry cans of petrol (Jeeps aren’t the lightest on fuel). Arriving at the border, we had problems with some of our paperwork and had to go to the nearest police station to get an affidavit. This took precious time out of our schedule, but once we had the “correct” paperwork, we were finally able to navigate through all the chaos at the Beit Bridge border crossing.
We pushed on to try to get to Harare before nightfall, but with our border setback and the state of the roads, we found ourselves on the scariest drive of our lives, passing massive trucks on what was left of the road. There were so many potholes, no streetlights, and in an unfamiliar country, I was scared, to say the least. We had no means of communicating with family to let them know where we were as we had no time to stop for sim cards; even if we did, buying them from the many salesmen hawking them on the side of the road is a daunting task. We finally got to Harare after nightfall, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that it was terrifying. There were hundreds of people jumping on the backs of trucks, cars and bakkies. The petrol shortage made it very hard for people commuting to and from work in the city centre. Most of the city didn’t have power, the traffic lights were out, and no one stopped at the dead traffic lights, so we didn’t either! We treated every traffic light as a yield sign, desperate to get out of there as soon as possible.
We arrived at the BnB at around 11pm, where there too was no power. The next morning I was able to charge my phone, connect to the Wi-Fi and let everyone know that we were safe. I contacted the clearing agent in Harare who said they were preparing for Ron’s arrival. It all felt so surreal. Here I was in Zimbabwe, waiting for Ronald to finally arrive after not having seen him for almost a month.
A JOYFUL REUNION AT LAST
I was advised that it would be best if I didn’t go to the airport, so I busied myself doing everything we needed to get back to SA while I impatiently waited for the clearing agent to contact me. Time almost stood still. I was anxious and fidgety until I heard the car arrive and the sound of the doors closing. I ran up the hill and there he was, at the end of a lead. The woman leading Ron let him go and he ran, crashing into me. I couldn’t believe he was here and we were finally together. I kissed and hugged him and he just kept licking me; I don’t know how long I knelt on all fours embracing the moment, but it was the most peaceful I’d felt in weeks. It was all almost over!
Almost calmed down enough after being reunited in Zimbabwe
I had that afternoon of pure bliss with Ron, we went on the longest walk, and curled up on the couch just enjoying being together again. I can’t tell you much about what happened that day because after Ron had arrived, all I did was stare at him, hold him and watch him sleep.
The following morning, we set off on the nine-hour journey back to the South African border. Knowing we wouldn’t make it in time, we kept our eyes out for a camping spot... after a few tries, we found one willing to let us set up camp. They informed us that there was no water and we’d have to keep a watch out for crocodiles and hippos, but they left us with some firewood and we were all set under the African sky. Watching Ron run through the bushveld was a surreal feeling.
Camping in Zimbabwe
At the border, we opened the windows slightly, left Ron in the car, and Gavin and I went to get our passports and the car documents stamped. We looked for the livestock control office, walked in and sat at a large table where the guy on the other end was very chatty. We spoke mostly about the differences between Zimbabweans and South Africans while he flipped through the paperwork and stamped it without too much thought. I nervously laughed at his jokes while feeling like a smuggler. He eventually handed the documents back and wished us well on our journey home. I looked at Gavin with a strange look on my face. Is that it? Is that all? He didn’t even come and look at Ron? We were happy; we hopped into the car and crossed the border. FINALLY! I’d gotten him into South Africa. To say that it took an army is an understatement. I had a lot of help from a lot of people, donations, advice and support. I finally had my boy where I needed him with me.
NEW DEVELOPMENTS, NEW ADVENTURE
I wish that things could have been different in South Africa. I found two part-time jobs, which did help me tremendously but were not sustainable. Every Saturday, I worked as a receptionist at the local vet, and every other week, I helped a friend trap feral cats for sterilisation. I earned less than R1,000 a month. I tried to find work; I applied for so many positions and kept turning up dead ends. I had no real income and was living on the couch at my parents; it all felt hopeless.
That lovely man I spoke about earlier, the one that drove me to Zimbabwe? Well, he and I fell in love. He’d already started the process of moving to Northern Ireland and offered to pay for Ron and me to join him in Belfast. But I told him that I wasn’t going to leave – after all, I’d just got here. But, as the months went on and I still had no real source of income, I started to consider the idea. In November, he left for three weeks. At the start, I was adamant that if he moved, he’d be moving without me, but by the end of that three weeks, I realised that I was more in love with him than I cared to admit and that my love for South Africa was not enough to keep me here, especially without a job.
So, Gavin booked our flights and the planning started. EASY! Ron went to the vet for his rabies titre test, which he passed, and was cleared to fly after 90 days; the car was sold, our bags were packed, and we were ready for Belfast.
LIFE GETS IN THE WAY
What was supposed to be easy, suddenly turned into something else. Coronavirus! Lockdown! Getting Ron to Northern Ireland! Everything was suddenly insanely difficult. Ron was due to fly at the beginning of April. It would have allowed us three weeks to secure pet- friendly accommodation, but we found ourselves unable to view properties due to lockdown.
The world had turned upside down in a matter of days: we were this side and Ron was with my parents in South Africa. The guilt of leaving him behind ate me up inside. Gavin and I were lucky to get work as night operatives at a distribution warehouse where we worked ten-hour shifts, six nights a week. It paid extremely well, and because they had strict hygiene and working conditions, we were able to work throughout the lockdown. On our mornings off, we took walks along the coastline, and when I saw dogs running with their humans, I burst into tears. The guilt was eating me up. I’d left him behind – again! This time, it was entirely my fault, and I felt so selfish for leaving him. My parents told me he was happy with them and loving life, but I knew he missed me, and I missed him. Life didn’t feel as easygoing without him.
By May we’d managed to find a rental that would accommodate Ron. I’d booked and paid for his flight and was just waiting for confirmation for the flight out of South Africa. Things were uncertain, flights were cancelled, routes were changed, and five months later, I still didn’t have Ron by my side. I felt terrible like I’d let him down.
I spoke to the pet transport consultant daily and was becoming more and more upset as I could see many other pets flying during this time, but the company wasn’t able to secure a flight for Ron. Then, halfway through a booking for Ron for July, my consultant went MIA. Three days later a new consultant contacted me, but she had less knowledge about flying pets than the first one. Daily, I had to correct her about the laws for both the UK and Northern Ireland, and after constant back and forth I could no longer muster the energy to deal with her and asked to change consultants. The new consultant seemed more knowledgeable but was based in Cape Town and needed my “file” from Joburg, although they didn’t have a single original document. I didn’t understand, but there was a flight. It was to London… I agreed to take it; anything just to get him back with me. There was a further delay over the file, but eventually, everything was sorted and Ron was booked on a flight to Heathrow, London.
I booked a one-way ticket to London. A friend agreed to fetch Ron and me from Heathrow and let us spend the night before driving us to Liverpool to catch the ferry to Belfast. The ferry was booked and I had one week to wait before Ron arrived. My parents had sorted all his paperwork together, packed his bag, and five days before his flight, the pet transport company came to pick him up from my parents’ house. They said their goodbyes, not knowing if they’d ever see him again.
I was at my desk at work when I missed a call from the consultant. She left a message saying that she was urgently trying to contact me. My heart sank. Shaking and anticipating the worst, I called her. She told me that Ron’s reservation had to be cancelled; it was something about Heathrow customs not being able to “accommodate” him on that day. At first, I was relieved. I’d imagined the absolute worst in those split seconds before she answered, but as I put the phone down, it immediately hit me: I wasn’t going to see him next week, and I didn’t know when I’d see him. I tried not to cry, but when I called my mom to tell her the news, I could no longer hold back my tears.
The kennel facility was already closed and there was no one to open up for my parents to fetch Ron, so he spent the night in the kennels for no reason. The next morning, my parents fetched a very confused but relieved Ronald. That Monday was a public holiday in South Africa, so there was no news from the consultant. When Tuesday came around, I was on the phone quickly to find out if there were any new flights to bring Ron over. I got a new quote from Emirates to Dublin. This was great, a little more expensive, but I just wanted Ron here, so I asked the consultant to book the flight. The flight was not confirmed by the time they had to pick Ron up for his five-day quarantine period. My parents had to load him into the van and say goodbye, again. Ron was now scared of the van and so confused about why my parents kept doing this to him. I felt so guilty about having to put him through all of this.
My dad with a very reluctant Ron, getting him into the van for the second time
Ron was in boarding facilities near the airport from Friday the 14th of August. On the morning of the 18th of August, the day before his flight, the boarding facility sent me photos of Ron looking terrified and confused. I felt terrible but was comforted knowing that he’d soon be with me. Later that day I received a call from my consultant to say that Ron had failed the state vet clearance, his microchip certificate wasn’t good enough, and I was told that we might have to start the whole process again. The microchip, the rabies vaccination, the rabies certificate and the 90-day “quarantine” period – this would amount to over 120 days before he’d be able to fly.
I fell to the floor and sobbed. I’d failed him. I’d put him through all of this for nothing. I couldn’t stop crying, not even when my agent called later to say that she was given the wrong information. Ron had, in fact, passed his state vet clearance and was ready to fly. I was confused and distraught and couldn’t understand what was happening.
Even on the day of his flight (19th of August), I couldn’t allow myself to be excited about him travelling to me. I had this constant fear that something else was going to happen, that I’d get a call saying some other form or paperwork was missing or invalid. I eventually received news that he was on the flight and I tracked his flight from Johannesburg to Dubai, not sleeping until I knew he’d landed safely.
Ron spent the day and night in a boarding kennel in Dubai before taking his next flight on Friday the 21st of August on his way from Dubai to Dublin. It didn’t feel real. Then, I received a call from my mom asking if I’d called our local vet, which confused me. So, I called the consultant who verified that she’d called my vet because there was something wrong with the rabies vaccination. I couldn’t believe it. I’d sent the paperwork to Dublin a week before to ask if all was in order, and the consultants had had my paperwork for months, so how did all three miss this? Fortunately, all that was needed was a letter from my vet. Okay, that isn’t so bad, I thought, all will be fine, so I left for the two-hour journey to Dublin. Almost half an hour into my journey, I received a call from the Dublin agent asking, “When did you arrive in the UK? Is Ron not flying within five days? Why didn’t your consultant tell me?” He was upset and I was flustered. The call didn’t last long; he said something about fixing it, and that was it. I didn’t have much time to question him as I was already on my way to Dublin, driving through heavy winds and rain to hopefully pick up my boy.
I got to Emirates Sky Cargo, called the Dublin agent and was told that Ron had landed but was stuck at customs and couldn’t be released. There was much back and forth between the Dublin agent, my consultant and my vet. Two-and-a-half hours later, I was told I could see Ron, but he couldn’t be released from his crate. I ran to his crate and he cried and licked my fingers through the wire mesh as I tried to console him. I asked the agent if he’d been let out yet but was told that he hadn’t. Another 20 minutes went by before I was finally allowed to take Ron for a short walk, although he hadn’t been officially released yet.
Waiting for them to release him and trying to touch him through the mesh
AND FINALLY, HOMEWARD BOUND
After another 20 minutes, we were told we could leave together. I took a photo to send to Gavin and my parents to let them know that I finally had Ron and we were on our way home!
The photo snapped for the family to let them know I finally had him
Has it been easy? No. Has it been worth it? A hundred times over, YES!
It’s been just over five weeks since Ron landed on that windy day in Dublin. Since then, my whole world has felt as though it’s suddenly come together.
There’s that sound I missed so much, that tail hitting the couch notifying me of his presence, the sound of his claws on the hardwood floor as he walks through the house, the soft, wet, sloppy kisses waking me in the mornings, and then the feeling of coming home and him greeting me.
During the whole process I did second-guess my decision to move and constantly questioned whether Ron would be happy here in Northern Ireland, or if I was being selfish and making a big mistake. Now, I can say with confidence that I made the right decision and that Ron is happy and loving life.
Ron goes on at least two long walks a day, alternating between the forest and the coastal paths, both of which he loves as he gets to meet so many other dogs. But, most importantly (to Ron), he gets to chase squirrels up trees, which has, along with playing in mud, become his favourite game.
Editor’s note: Follow Ron on Instagram @ronalds_adventure
