Falling in Hoi An (on my first scooter accident )

To the nice young men in Vietnam who rescued us from my first scooter accident.

Dear Sirs,
Thank you so much for your kindness and generosity.  I apologize that in the one week that I've spent in Vietnam, I managed only to learn to say, "Thank You".  I wish that I could've at least learned the word for "generous and kind" instead of stupidly giving you the thumbs up sign and pointing at you.

When we fell off of our scooter, we were both in a state of shock.  I was scared when I saw the blood leaking out of my friend's shirt. Even though I knew that we were lucid with no broken bones, I was still panicked because I had been the one that was driving.  The adrenaline that got to me made me completely forget how it all happened and how I had even managed to pick up the very heavy scooter so fast and get it out of the road.  I was in no condition to get back on that scooter right away to seek help.
But you and your friend, our rescuers... were so quick to stop and try to help.  Even though we couldn't communicate, thank you so much for trying with your iphone using google translate.  But I have to mention, you should check the setting on that because unfortunately, instead of translating it from Vietnamese to English, it only wrote out the Vietnamese with the English alphabet... so yes, I read what you were trying to say but I still had no clue.  But I truly appreciate your gesture. 


Although we lacked in communication, your willingness to help was more than enough.   Thank you very much for whisking us away to the nearest hospital, which was unfortunately the worst hospital I've ever been to simply because we were the last sort of people they wanted to see, but that wasn't your faults in any way and I thank you for trying your best.  Oh, and when she asked us to pay and we didn't understand, I was touched by your gesture when you grabbed for your own wallets.


I know the two of you were worried for us when you dropped us off back at the scooter but I was much calmer by then and able to drive.  I drove very slowly and got us safely to the bigger hospital and luckily it was only 10 km away.

I wish I knew more than your names, I have already forgotten, they were difficult to pronounce and my mind was racing, but that's no excuse.  I hope that one day when you visit another country you will receive the same hospitality and treatment that you have given us. Sorry, I was too shocked and shaken to even ask for your email addresses.  Maybe one day I will run into you if you ever visit America... I can be your tour guide in SoCal... I can take you to Disneyland...

I know that you will never read this letter, but I hope that in some way you can feel the positive vibes from this message.

Good luck for the rest of your life, I hope we do meet again and I wish you great happiness for you are both great men. 

Your truly,
The girls that that fell the scooter when they hit that ridiculously huge bed of gravel that should have not been there. 

P.S.  So sorry for getting blood on your jacket.  Hope you already know that soaking it in salt water will get it right off.


A letter to the nurse that "cleaned" my wounds.

Dear Nurse,

I apologize for inconveniencing you today when my friend and I, two obvious foreigners, walked into your hospital unable to speak your language.  Sorry that we were unable to explain to you what we needed.  However, shouldn't be obvious and within your expertise to treat scooter wounds quite often? Why, with the senseless way of driving in Vietnam, there must surely be at least two and a half patients that you must see everyday that have fallen victim to scooter accidents.  We may have lacked in communication, but from the blood dripping down our sides and our arms, I thought it was clear that we at least needed some immediate cleaning.

Thank you though for eventually cleaning our wounds.  Though it was quite obvious that for you, foreigners must have no pain receptors, with the way you went carelessly pushing at our wounds with the cotton swab.  I honestly believe that with the amount of gravel that was still left in our wounds and the half ass tape job that you did with the gauze, either you hate your job or you hate us.

I assure you that you are not my first nor last experience in an Asian hospital.  I have even been in medical facilities that are maybe even less sanitary or the most unwelcoming at first glance.  However, your hospital is the first hospital that I ever felt truly unwelcome.  I hope that one day you will see that we foreigners as well have feelings and pain receptors. 

Yours truly,
The foreign girl that fell off her scooter the other day.


Letter to the doctor that stitched up my dear friend.

Dear Doctor,

Thank you for taking the time to stitch my friend up on such short notice.  I was very concerned that she needed immediate attention because the wound to her side was so deep and wouldn't stop bleeding.  We both immediately knew that the puncture was quite serious, because...well it looked like a gaping hole.

No offense, but your hospital isn't exactly the kind of hospital that we Westerners are used to.  It lacked the usual, sterile feeling, bright flourescent lights, cleanliness... even the familiar hospital smell that we have grown accustom to in our respective countries.  I was however appreciative of the nurse that re-cleaned our wounds with gentle care and thoroughness because the previous hospital we had been taken to did not even speak one word to us... English nor Vietnamese.  We were relieved to find that your hospital has a staff that can speak basic English at least and didn't make us feel like we were intruding just because we were foreigners.  This helped to soothe our nerves a bit and know that we may potentially be in good hands.


May I however, make a few suggestions?  The room that you used to operate on my friend was quite frankly, a bit scary to us.  It looked very... what's the word... dooming.  By no means am I suggesting that you decorate the room with flowers, but... maybe even just a few more pieces of hospital furniture? A few trays for your tools instead of the counter next to the sink might help. I'm not quite sure what I'm getting at but the room seemed quite bare and reminded me of scary movies.  I think maybe even a few more lights would help the atmosphere instead of the one hanging light over the operating bed. 


If I may, I would also like to make one more suggestion; It may be nice for your future foreign patients if you please turn off your cell phone.  As a European and an American, we were quite shocked when half way through the operation, your cell phone started ringing quite obnoxiously.  With the tense, nervous silence being broken by the sound of digital La Mamba  bouncing off the bare, tile walls, it was extremely unnerving.  I appreciate however that you didn't reach into your pocket with your bloody hands and answer it.  That may have been reason for us to stop the operation and fly home immediately.  Instead you did let it keep ringing the first time and we were forced to hear your phone sing while I held my poor friend's hand and we both wondered, what we had gotten ourselves into.


I must say that we were both quite confused when your phone rang for the second time and you motioned for me with your bloody hands and tools to come and get your phone. Maybe it didn't occur to you to put down your tools, take off your gloves and turn off your phone immediately...  But where I come from, I would not even fish into my brother's pocket to take out his cell phone.  That was a definite first for me, and I couldn't help but wonder, why are your pockets so deep?  Clearly, you must have felt just as uncomfortable as I when I had to reach my hand all the way down your pants, dangerously close to your you know what, and fish out your cell phone.  What shocked us more still was that when I did finally manage to retrieve your phone, you nudged for me to press "Answer".  Then I, very astonished, put the phone to your ear so that you can chat away on your cell phone and simultaneously operate on my poor, dear, shaking friend with the gaping hope in her stomach, now only half way closed and still bleeding quite profusely.  I could only manage a half smile to her and whisper, "It's going to be okay."  But quite honestly, I myself wasn't quite convinced, even though you made sure to make the conversation under two minutes.  

It has been a few days and with relief I can say that her wounds seem to be healing just fine,  I applaud your multi-tasking skills and hope that you may consider my suggestions without being overly offended.  I just wanted to give you some insight from a foreigner and possibly future business since Hoi An is quite a touristy area and I'm sure you will have several more foreign patients.
Thank you again for your time,

Sincerely,
The foreign girls from the scooter accident the other day.

Boats and Surf (Surfing Gerupuk, Lombok)

Last day in Taiwan! Leaving for Indonesia, a sad but exciting day.

We (Chris and I along with our friends Chris and Jessie) took a small little plane over to Lombok from Denpasar, Bali.  Lombok is a magical little island with great surfing.  It’s not overcrowded like Bali is… especially like Kuta, Bali.  Kuta, Bali was terrible, it felt like all of the touristy shops combined into one, then decided to throw up.  Anyway, we were glad to get out of the craziness of Bali and chill at a slow going country part of Indonesia.  Kuta, Lombok is where all of the surf shops and little surf themed restaurants are scattered about.  You also can catch a local boat from here to get out to a lot of the amazing reef breaks that Lombok has to offer.  Chris and Cheryl, our friends from Cali met us in Lombok and the six of us became one fun bunch to travel Indonesia with.  We stayed at a really nice guesthouse in Lombok that was a bit overpriced but worth the splurge, considering that I knew once I split off from Chris and the rest of the group I’d be back to staying in very basic, backpacker accommodations.  

Walking towards the small plane to Lombok from Bali

The owner of the guesthouse is a Japanese expat named Ken who didn’t speak much English but tried to be helpful.  He doubled as our surf guide and basically took us surfing for the next four days.  We mostly surfed Gerupuk.  Gerupuk as a whole consists of three breaks, all accessible by boat.  There’s Gerupuk Inside, Gerupuk Outside Left and Gerupuk Outside Right.  In the afternoons we surfed Gerupuk Outside Right and in the mornings we either surfed Outside Left or Inside.  The waves were a little smaller than what we expected but they were still really fun.  Shoulder high sometimes head high waves, over a shallow reef that was so beautiful under the glassy, clear water.  At times when I duck dove, I felt like I was plunging straight into glass.  The whole surfing experience was magic.  We’d have to take a van out to the dock.  Then we’d unload our boards and haul them onto a little boat that took us to the different breaks. 

Getting our stuff ready for the boat

On our small little boat

Local boats that take you out the the different breaks

Cute local kids hanging on to the boats as they go in and out

Local kids hanging onto our boat, smiling for the camera

Jumping off the boat with our boards

On our way to the breaks

 

The scenery was magnificent.  Southern Lombok is quite drier than Bali, so some of the terrain reminded me of California… sandy, deserty next to the ocean.  There were also huge rocks that jutted out of the water, one was so big and conveniently located alongside Gerupuk Outside Right, so the whole time we were surfing in it’s shade.  

A beautiful sunset at Gerupuk Outside Right

I loved the boat rides because I felt like we were on a little adventure going out to reef breaks in the middle of nowhere.  On one occasion, the motor of the boat kept shutting off, we finally made it to the surf break and had a nice long surf session.  When we all got back in the boat we didn’t give much thought about our way back.  Unfortunately, the motor shut off completely so we were sort of stranded.  We all took it really well and by the end it was six of us plus our guides using our hands and arms to paddle the boat.  Some of the guys were able to remove parts of the boat and use the flat but short boards to paddle.  We finally made it back after it got dark and it was all really funny in the end.  

Using boards and our hands to paddle our boat in the dark

Each night the six of us were so exhausted that all we could do was have dinner then chat or play some cards before going to bed to do the same thing the next day.  It was a relaxing and great start to a fun trip.  

Life in a Bag... Again (on leaving Taiwan and heading for SE Asia)

   There is a first time for everything and this week was the first time I had to say good-bye to a foreign country that I learned to call home.  It has been exactly one year and four days since I first stepped foot in Taiwan and today I leave for a new adventure traveling around South East Asia.  This time I won't be going back to Taiwan after my travels, instead I plan to go home to California.  I am very excited about the next few months.  I will be starting out in Indonesia, then I'll fly to Phuket, Thailand and make my way through Thailand over to Cambodia, up to Laos, over to Vietnam and down Vietnam to finally fly home.  It's going to be crazy!  Needless to say, this week my emotions were not of excitement and anticipation, it was mostly a heavy heart and hesitation.  
   After living in Taiwan for a year, I finally feel like I have worked hard to make it feel like a home.  I have gotten used to not knowing how to read, not being able to understand and eavesdrop on neighboring conversations, being stared at when I open my mouth, communicating by gestures and broken words, zipping around my scooter ignoring all traffic laws, avoiding other vehicles ignoring all traffic laws, fireworks, humidity and the kindness of strangers.  There were some really low times, times that were so low all I wanted to do was jump on the next plan to America... anywhere in America.  But all of those low times have made the high times so very high.  Now... I really don't know why I'm leaving.  I have met the most amazingly beautiful people in the world.  I can tell you that my absolute favorite thing about Taiwan...  has to be the people.  Generous, content, big hearted people... in the most genuine way possible. 
    Of course there are a whole bunch of other things that I will dearly miss.  Being able to surf once or twice a day work from two hours to six hours (six hours being a very long day) and still make a good living.  Having real healthcare... healthcare that I was not afraid to use because it was there for me not for them.  Chasing and anticipating typhoon swell.  Feeling at all times, wonderfully safe (I am sitting right now at one of the subway stops with a huge surfboard bag a big backpack and Chris's backpack strewn around me, my laptop taking my full attention and not for one second do I think that I am in any sort of danger.)  Even though at times I got sick of the food, I know that I will really miss it.  Especially beef noodle soup.  7-11s. To sum up, I will miss this laid back easy lifestyle and I may come back one day.
   I have downsized what I've accumulated in one year and fit it into one bag again and will now embark on a new journey.  It's off to Bali tonight! I'll do my best on updates! 

  
  

A New Plan (for now)

Sorry I haven't updated my blog in a while.  The longer I live in a new country the more normal everything seems.  The things that once surprised me I no longer take notice of and care.  I've developed new habits and ideas to help me live and blend into a new society.  My driving has gone absolutely crazy... I catch myself growing impatient at every red light, often running them on my scooter.  Food is no longer a novelty, to the point that I'm sick of eating a lot of the Taiwanese food. This can be partly due to the fact that I live in a podunk town with limited chocies, but still...  Surfing has become so much a part of my routine that I periodically have to remind myself that I'm a very lucky person for having such an awesome lifestyle.  Another thing that has become a part of my routine is working less than twenty hours a week.  At first, I used to think that I had too much time on my hands, but now I'm used to working so little that it feels like I work too much.  (Does that make sense?)  Anyway, after living in Taiwan for about a year, I've adapted quite well and it feels like daily life, so even though there's still so much I have to write about, I have trouble sitting down and writing.  So I apologize. 

For those of you who are curious about what I plan to do in the next few months, here's a tentative update.  In October, it will be exactly one year since I arrived in Taiwan.  Six months ago, I seriously saw myself staying for a long time... maybe even years.  However, I miss my family and friends back home too much and am not yet ready to leave home for so long.  I've decided that since I'm still young, (at least, I tell myself everyday) I still have the motivation to go back to school.  Since California has that awesome law where I can go to school as a resident for as long as I want since I grew up there, I want to take advantage of it and go back to school for a little while.  Then maybe move back to Taiwan... or another country, who knows.  So my tentative plan is that I will be back in California sometime in January.  But before that I have to advantage of the fact that I'm still in Asia! So at the end of October, I will leave Taiwan, spend a few weeks in Indonesia, then go to Singapore for a few days, maybe Malaysia for a few days, then spend six weeks in Thailand, Cambodia and Laos.  I am ecstatic!  I promise there will be a lot more posting once I hit the road with my backpack again. 

Jungle Living (on living in Manjou)

   My boss recently left on a trip to Tanzania and graciously offered to let Chris and I house and dog sit for them during their absence.  We gratefully accepted their offer; eight months of living in a hostel can be tiring and we were looking forward to having some private space.  I loved living in Jialeshuei, steps from the surf break, but sharing living quarters with strangers can drive anyone a little crazy. 
   Their house is not very far from Jialeshuei- about a fifteen minute drive up the mountains.  Since the county that we live in is rural to begin with, Manjou is a pretty podunk town.  There are chickens and geese running around in front yards which also happens to be the main road, more power chairs than usual are used as a mode of daily transportation, country kids with dirty faces and happy grins are a common sight, country men with dirtier faces and happier grins are an even commoner sight and there are a lot of wild critters. 

   My definition of "big spider" has definitely changed in the past week.  I used to think any spider larger than a nickel was pretty big- excluding Daddy longlegs, which I grew used to in California.  These days, nickel sized spiders go completely unnoticed around here.  The spiders about the size of my hand that I have been spotting every few days have now refreshed my definition of "big".  Not only are these guys big, they're hairy - visibly hairy, if you look closely you can see their eyes which stare back at you.  Plus, they're incredibly fast! I've developed a technique for catching them, I use a sturdy and big paper bowl and get as close to the spider as possible.  They know that you're trying to get them, the shrewd beasts, so the trick is to quickly place the bowl about 3 inches in front of them, then it's like they just walked into the bowl. 

   Spiders don't really bother me too much, they kind of give me the creeps but it's kind of fun trying to catch them and letting them go outside.  It's the cockroaches and mosquitoes that I absolutely abhor.  If I see a cockroach, every inch of my skin tightens up and I involuntarily cringe with pure hate.  I think it's because the cockroaches here are enormous and they fly, they're absolutely disgusting.  Mosquitoes don't gross me out but I hate them. I am obsessed with crushing any that I spot.  I can't think of anything else that gives me more satisfaction than slaughtering a mosquito and watching it explode red with blood.
    Yesterday I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom when I heard a scratching sound.  I looked up at the window and there was a crab walking outside of the screen window.  I thought this was totally random, I have never thought that I would see a crab walking on the window while brushing my teeth.

   Something that I've gotten completely used to during my stay in Southern Taiwan are geckos.  They are EVERYWHERE.  At first, I thought they were cute and it only took me a few nights to fall asleep to their loud chirping, something that I hardly notice anymore.  Now, I don't mind them, but I do mind their feces sometimes.  They crap all over the house, it's on windowsills, walls, the floor, the kitchen, the bathroom, sometimes I find them on plates  or on my clothes and that's really annoying.  At least they eat mosquitoes so I don't mind having them around too much. 

Gecko in the bathroom, that's the tail

Geckos in the kitchen

Little tiny baby gecko in the sink, it's right underneath the can of beer.

   So far, living in Manjou has been great! It's like living in the jungle.  The frogs and toads here are so loud and at night it's like sleeping to a very obnoxious frog symphony, but in a way, it's peaceful.  Monkeys come and go through the trees right in the yard.  The commute to work or just anywhere is unspeakably gorgeous. It's a relaxing, comfortable and interesting environment to live in.   
   Supposedly there are tons of poisonous snakes around here but I haven't seen any in the house yet.  My boss showed us pictures of a cobra and a viper that they found snooping inside the house.  Hopefully I won't have to get rid of a snake in the house but I'll let you know if I do.

Country Doc (on doctor visits of rural Taiwan)

   Since Chris and I live in a rural part of Taiwan there are certain standards that don't apply here like they would in the city.  There is a laid back in the country, anything goes-like atmosphere around here.  Drivers around here are crazier (I don't kid when I say crazy), dentists like I mentioned in a previous post are not quite the same.  There are many old men that casually walk around with their shirt pulled up over their bulging bellies to cool themselves.  A surprising number of people commute around town in what looks like a sort of motorized power chair. More than once I've driven down the street and passed an old lady on one of these power chairs going achingly slow through the scooter lane.  My point is that there are a lot of interesting and a lot of times funny things that you can encounter in this country setting of Taiwan.
   One of the things that Chris and I have gotten used to is the country doctor that we've been seeing whenever we have some sort of an ailment.  He's a great doctor that speaks excellent English because he practiced in Canada for ten years.  Though he carried over the language, it's obvious that he didn't carry over the Canadian practice.  He has throughly embraced the laid back country environment by fitting the description of a doctor that you may find in the countryside. 
   Recently,I just got over a bout of some serious bronchitis that was on the cusp of pneumonia.  Back at home I hate going to the doctor because it's so expensive even with health insurance, but here I figured I have good health insurance so I went to the doctor.  He put me on a course of antibiotics and I went back to visit him a few more times for some IV injections to boost my immunity and also some antibiotic shots in the arm. 
If I recall correctly, doctor offices at home have sinks in every room.  I remember that the patient's bed is always covered with disposable sheets of paper for sanitary reasons.  I remember numerous bottles of hand sanitizers placed conveniently everywhere and color coded plastic bins sticker marked with intimidating words like "hazardous waste".  I also remember lots and lots of disposable gloves that were used by the nurses and doctors all the time.
   At this office there are no such things.  No sinks, hand sanitizers, gloves, etc.  If there are such things as gloves or hand sanitizers they are probably tucked away in some cabinet yellowing from old age.  The waste basket that they discard papers in is the same waste basket they throw bloody gauze and used syringes in (no stickers). The nurse that shot me up each time with antibiotics or injected me with an IV would do so right after handling the jolly, overweight man soaked in sweat, wiping up his blood with a cotton ball with her gloveless hands (don't worry I'm sure the cotton ball is soaked in a bit of alcohol).   Thinking back, it makes me feel like maybe the doctor offices back at home are eerily germ phobic or maybe I'm just getting used to it all. 
   Last week, Chris decided that since we planned on a surfless road trip for a week it would be a good time to get the mole he'd been meaning to get removed off of his stomach.  It irritated him every time he surfed and he had inquired about getting it removed back in the States but the thieves at the doctor office told him it would cost him a minimum of two hundred dollars (price quoted over the phone, which means it would cost much more).  I should also mention that he had health insurance back at home that he paid a hefty monthly sum for but of course, "insurance doesn't cover it". 
Anyway, we went to the country doc and asked him if he had the means to remove the mole.
   He says, "Do you want to remove it now?"
   This took us by surprise, "Right now? How long will it take?"
   "Oh, not long maybe five minutes."
This exchange should have raised some suspicions.  It was our understanding that the process wasn't as easy as five minutes and that it wasn't as simple a process as he made it seem... but he's a doctor, right?
So, Chris agreed and in a couple of moments Chris was lying on the patient's bed that probably has never seen a disposable paper covering in it's obviously long life.  Oh yeah, and our doctor is also a seasoned acupuncturist so when Chris complained about a little neck pain, he stuck a few needles in his arm and then told him to lie down for his mole removal.  The needles were causing him quite a bit of discomfort because they were hitting his nerves and numbing his arm.  When Chris asked if it was okay to leave the needles in the doctor replied, "Of course, don't worry about it." So I sat and watched Chris visibly uncomfortable, laying down, the both of us not really knowing what to expect.  Then the doctor disappeared and then reappeared with a strange little box.
I will do my best to sound like I am not exaggerating but you may not believe me still.  The box that he appeared with looked like an old welding machine possibly from the 1950's or 60's.  It had two knobs and a light bulb and it was mostly blue with rust stains all over.  There were three long skinny wires that looked like they were from an old torture film used to experiment on human brains by manipulating it with electrical currents.  I'm serious.
He set the box down and then took out a white cloth/rag and unfolded it.  Not so neatly placed side by side were about six or seven small and skinny instruments that reminded me of a soldering iron.
He then took out a big needle to anesthetize the operation zone, again no gloves and no sign of recent hand washing.  He asked if Chris could feel anything around the area and then proceeded to turn on the machine.  By this time Chris was looking a little nervous.  We kept exchanging secretive, weird looks, our eyes said, "Wait, is he serious? He's going to use that the thing?"  I couldn't help but think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea and that maybe it wasn't quite as sanitary as may be needed.  It all seemed weird and outdated to say the least.  Chris's eyes looked at me as if to say, "Do you think this is going to be okay?" I didn't want to freak him out and tell him what I thought so I just convinced myself that it was completely normal and then gave him a reassuring smile.
The doctor turned one of the knobs and commented, "This is low power."  He attached one of the thin looking instruments to one of the wires, it had a thin metal loop at the end of it.  He then used the metal loop to literally burn off a layer of skin from the mole.  I say burn off because there was smoke coming from his mole and the machine. It also smelled like burning flesh.  After removing the first layer of skin, the good old doctor, with his gloveless, unwashed hands carefully picked at the metal loop to take off the discarded skin.  Like he was picking hair off of a hairbrush .  It was bizarre.  Then his next comment was, "Okay, strong power," then he turned the knob all the way and cauterized the rest of the mole.  Then he was finished.  He proceeded to tell Chris how to treat the wound but as he was talking he carelessly allowed one of the wires to be conveniently placed right over Chris's fresh, new wound.  He didn't notice so I walked up and pointedly removed the wire off.  It was obviously no big deal, just me being a paranoid American. 
On our way out, Chris asked him how much it would have hurt if he didn't use the anesthetic.  The doctor chuckled and replied, "It would be like the Germans in movies..."
"Torture?"
"Yes!"
Well, at least he used the anesthetic.

It's been past a week and the wound is healing just fine.  The doctor did know what he was doing after all.  It's times like these when I am amazed... dare I say proud? At how well we have been able to adapt and embrace our surroundings.

Puppy Update

For those of you who are curious about what happened to the puppy that unexpectedly became our responsibility, I have good news.  We found her a home!

We had her for a few weeks, named her Binglang which is Mandarin for betelnut, got her shots, checked and cleaned.  She was beginning to show signs of a cute little domesticated puppy and it was harder and harder for us to not attach ourselves.  We really wanted to find her a home but it was starting to look almost impossible.  It was tough to realize that we might have to put her back on the street eventually, whenever we decided to leave or move again. 

One evening at the beach, we ran into an acquaintance who just got a puppy.  He moved here with his wife and little daughter.  After mentioning how we had a puppy and we were looking to find her a home, he shows a little interest and agreed to come by the house later that week to see her. 

We were confident that he would take little Binglang because she's so cute.  He came by with his family and when his little daughter got off of the scooter and saw Binglang, she snatched her up and proclaimed, "My puppy!"

After all, I'm glad that Adrienne convinced us to rescue Binglang, we saved a puppy and she will have a good life.  Rest assured though, we will not be picking up anymore puppies!