Because They're Burning Bricks

Posted By Sika on May 16, 2008

I have a new dog. He adopted me a while ago, although I wasn’t sure I wanted another dog and so didn’t start feeding him regularly until a couple of weeks ago—basically when Derek said if I didn’t want him he would give the dog to Mr. Banda to keep Chimwemwe* company. I still haven’t taken the new dog for his rabies shots and a check up, but I will—just as soon as I have an early Saturday morning free.

The new dog is small, shorter than Ujeni, with a ridge on his back that indicates, funnily enough, that he is part Rhodesian** Ridgeback. When he first started hanging around, I named him Agogo*** Pitiful, but as I started to feed him and pet him (I’ve never seen a dog before who is both so timid and such a love. He came up to be petted almost immediately, and it’s only after licking my hand for quite a while that he attempts to see if it might be food.) and pick the ticks off him (a daily task which I hate, especially the squooshing them under my sandal part) his behavior changed. He basically hops everywhere now, instead of snoring while awake and snuffling and being sort of oozy at everything. So Agogo Pitiful no longer seemed to suit. I was desperate to find him a name and stop calling him “iwe” and “hey, dog,” but Derek, my normal source of dog names, was fresh tapped out after naming his new dog, Froppy, and so I was on my own. Eventually, I realized that I was calling him my new dog all the time, and there is actually a Chichinglish adjective that may suit. So I named him Yanuwon (pronounced ya-new-one)

Anyway, so today David and I went into town. For some reason it didn’t occur to me to chain Ujen and Yanuwon or to feed them, which is how I normally distract them when I’m going someplace I don’t want them to follow. I didn’t particularly worry until David and I left his place and I still couldn’t get rid of them. We decided to walk into town, and so took the Matawale Housing road as a shortcut.†

As we got further and further along the road I became more and more concerned. I did not want the dogs on the M3, the main Zomba road. Minibus drivers are insane and I did not want a puppy pancake. So I started looking for things to throw at them. Dried up sugar cane was copious but not easy to throw distances and not terribly threatening either. For some reason, the only time I have ever wanted rocks to throw at the dogs, there were none to be found.? Children never seem to have any trouble finding rocks to throw at my dogs, so I don’t know what my problem is.††

Eventually I threw enough rocks that Yanuwon was startled into a passing bicycle, which disturbed him enough that he decided it would probably be better to go home. But Ujen thought it was all a great game, including when I grabbed him by the neck, spun him around, and tried to force him to head off in the opposite direction. He probably thought it was funny when I complained to David that this was my just punishment for training Ujen to stick with me when we’re walking together so I didn’t have to remember a chain whenever I went to pick him up at Derek’s. “Teach me to train my damn dog.” I was joking, but I was also getting seriously upset.

We reached the damn road with my damn dog still following. We walked a very short distance, and I decided that David’s previous idea, of catching a minibus while Ujeni wasn’t looking, was probably our best bet of not taking the damn dog all the way to the market where he would terrorize all the people and probably eat all the fish, for which I would then have to pay. I was still holding out hope for a walk instead, though, so while we waited for a minibus, I continued to try to convince Ujeni to go home. At one point, I picked him up under his front legs, carried him a couple hundred yards back down the dirt road, faced him towards home and gave him a shove. By the time I got back to David, Ujen had decided what to do and was leaning against my leg while groups of Malawians laughed at me—to be fair, David and I laughed at me, too.

No minibuses were coming, so I wanted to walk a ways and see if Ujen would give up. Ujen got a bit ahead of us and a minibus came. David and I figured it was the ideal time to hurry onto the minibus. We got on, and I was mentally trying to get the conductor to hurry up closing the damn door (why I thought a minibus door could close quickly, I don’t know.) before my damn dog got in. I craned my neck to try see if Ujen was still in front of the minibus. Then I noticed a strange, confused look on the conductor’s face. I looked down.

Ujeni was quite nicely settled in the aisle, partially under David’s seat, ears alert, head up, paws crossed. The damn dog. The conductor looked bewidered by the strange ways of the azungu and asked if we wanted to take the dog. I considered it for a minute, but then just couldn’t see how to get him back home or how to keep him out of trouble in town, so told them no and bodily shoved him out the door. He was so cute (even with his healing head wound and torn up ear from fighting over all those dogs in heat), all ready for a ride in the car, and just trying to be with his person, like a good dog is supposed to, that it was really quite a difficult thing to do.

Ujen chased us for a while and then gave up, standing in the middle of the road, staring at the back of the minibus, wondering what he could ever have done to deserve this. I almost started to cry and then got more than a little freaked out when Ujen, eventually heading back to the side of the road, almost swerved into a minibus. David was quite gallant though, and watched until he saw Ujen get off the road.

Then I went swimming (1000 yards!) and we went to the Market and returned home. Yanuwon was there. Ujen wasn’t. But I figured that was probably ok, since when he’s mad at me he likes to go to his other people and his other friends and he heads over to Derek’s house. And David and I were going to Derek’s for chicken fried by Moses, garlicky potatoes mashed by me, and Dr. Who. But Ujen wasn’t there either.

Since Ujen has been known to run around for 2-3 days at a time without coming home, I told myself I wasn’t going to panic. Yet. It kind of worked.

When I got home from Derek’s, Ujeni started whining immediately. He ran out and rubbed himself all over my legs. He came inside just long enough to reassure himself I really was home, let me feed him, and then decided that he’d rather go hang out with Yanuwon and my watchman, Richard, than let me pet him. Which is fair. I suspect he’ll be trying to get Derek, Moses, and the guards over at Derek’s house to give him pity nsima. He’s a smart dog.

*Chimwemwe is the dog Derek gave to Mr. Banda back when he thought he was leaving the country. Mr. Banda is the pool manager at Sir Harry Johnston International School, where we go swimming.
**Zimbabwean?
***Grandparent
†I had forgotten how much more attention I get on the Matawale Housing road than I do on Airwing road and the main Zomba road. There was a large group of children jumping up and down and chanting, “Azungu! Azungu!” Luckily for me, Nikki taught me a new word, so I started bouncing up and down as we walked, pointing, and just generally doing my best excited 8-year-old imitation while chanting “Achinyamata! Achinyamata!” (Youth! Youth!) The adults started laughing immediately, and a few seconds later, the kids bust up, too.
‡David says when he goes home he’s going to hire some kids to follow him around, chanting, “Azungu! Azungu!” I’m almost positive he’s lying.
?When I told Derek this story, he asked me if I ever thought I would throw rocks at a dog. I pointed out that I kicked Ujen, too, before admitting that I aimed to avoid my damn dog with the rocks and didn’t kick very hard, which is probably why I couldn’t get rid of him. Then Derek proceeded to sympathize with my worry by pointing out that he sees dead dogs all the time on the M3. At which point, since I hadn’t seen Ujeni since I left him at the roadside, I almost kicked and threw rocks at Derek.
††Yes, I do.

Categories: Malawi, Random
Tags: dogs, kids