We had so many questions after watching Elizabeth Lo’s love letter to dogs Stray, so we virtually sat down with its canine star Zeytin to chat shooting this incredible doc, her favourite parts of Istanbul, and her fondness of naps and squirrels.
What was it like having Elizabeth follow you around the city?
It was fun to have a constant companion trailing after me. I have dog and human friends throughout the city, but nobody’s ever really followed me so closely before. It was funny taking a human for a walk but I felt like a guide taking her through all my favorite parts of the city. Sometimes I could tell she was lost, and I’d walk her back to where we started so she could find her bearings again - after I sniffed a few lamp posts and walls of course. I could tell she trusted my judgment a lot. I could also tell when she was happy or annoyed by things, and I’d help her out sometimes when she needed it by barking at people who were bothering us, I like barking!
What’s your typical day?
I’ll sleep until the sun isn’t so high in the sky (the sun makes my eyes hurt a little). Since I don’t have a job and I can do whatever I want, sometimes I wake up at 4 or 5 in the afternoon. Then I’ll take a big stretch and see if there are any bowls of water laying around - usually the vendors will put out a bowl of water for me, especially when it’s hot. I have a good scratch and then I’ll be on my way looking for friends, cats, and bones. After a few hours of playing in parks or wandering along the Bosphorous, I’ll find a nice place to nap, even if it’s right in the middle of a busy street, I don’t mind it. Naps are the best. When I wake up from my night time nap, I’ll search for my second dinner around midnight, usually I’ll munch on kibble that’s been laid out for cats and dogs throughout the city on people’s stoops but I will eat anything!
Do you feel a sense of safety when you walk the streets? Does human society treat you with respect?
I’ve learned how to read people, so I know who thinks I’m cute (I can never resist a quick scratch behind my ear or a belly rub to let me know I'm a good dog), and who doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. Mostly the people around me in Istanbul are pretty kind towards me. They’ll give me water if they can tell I’m thirsty. But sometimes if I get too close to a cat, people will yell at me to back off. Most of the time nobody’s really scared of me because I’m pretty relaxed and friendly, so I get lots of cuddles and pats on the head.
How was lockdown for you? How different did the city feel without people?
It was strange when all the cafes and restaurants closed. It was like the dogs and cats and seagulls took over the streets entirely like back in the old days. But there were still people who would set out kibble every morning for all of us, the best times are when they give us juicy bones!
What are your favourite parts of the city?
I mostly like to hang out in Taksim Square and Karakoy along the Bosphorous - I love being by the water and I would like to have a paddle but I'm a bit scared of the water ;(
If you could roam any other city in the world, where would you go?
There’s no city like Istanbul for dogs and cats, but I wouldn’t mind going to other dog-friendly cities to meet street dogs from Athens or Moscow so we can chase each other - and squirrels! - around parks and streets. I wonder how different they are culturally from us dogs in Istanbul.
This is your screen debut, what’s your next role??
I’m just living my life at the moment, taking it easy - naps are the best. I’m waiting for the day that Stray gets seen in Istanbul in-person because I’ve love to come to my own premiere. If anyone wants to cast me for a sequel, I’d be down for an epic saga about my whole life.
Through the eyes of its stray dogs wandering the streets of Istanbul, Stray explores what it means to live as a being without status or security. As they search for food and shelter, three dogs—Zeytin, Nazar, and Kartal—embark on inconspicuous journeys through Turkish society that allow us an unvarnished portrait of human life. Whether they lead us into decrepit ruins or bustling streets, the gaze of strays act as windows into the overlooked corners of society: women in loveless marriages, protesters without arms, refugees without sanctuary. Through their canine eyes, we are shown a human world ruptured by divisions along class, ethnic, and gender lines. The film is both a critical observation of human civilisation through the unfamiliar gaze of dogs, and a sensory voyage into new ways of seeing and being from a position of extreme marginalisation. It is at this intersection that Stray seeks to shed light on Turkey’s societal convulsions through the observations of Zeytin and her companions —both human and nonhuman.