Da Lat animal coffee

We arrived at the café just after dawn, our motorcycle cutting through Da Lat’s misty chill, where the owner greeted us by unlocking only the dogs’ enclosure—a wiggling tide of scruffy terriers, fluffy clouds with paws, and one energetic mutt that claimed my shoe as its throne. Dad settled at a wooden table with his coffee, phone propped to film, while I traded 20k VND for a cup of kibble, instantly becoming the pack’s favorite human. As dogs jostled for snacks, cats watched from their glass-walled “apartment,” tails flicking until I bought fish-shaped treats, prompting staff to open their domain—a bold tabby climbed my arm, purring like a motorboat. Chickens clucked in a miniature barn behind us, rabbits hopped cautiously from a carrot-themed hutch, and Dad captured it all: me laughing as a puppy stole my cup, a cat photobombing with judge-y stares, the owner shrugging, “They’re freelancers.” By 9 AM, we left, my jacket flecked with dog fur, Dad’s coffee gone cold, and the quiet thrill of a morning where cages unlocked stories without words.