My Life in Sri Lanka

I just read through my blog and realized that I have no entries here about my life in Sri Lanka. Well, it will take more than one entry to lay that out but I better start somewhere. First off, it is hot and humid and for a dog with lots of long hair, that is not a particularly good combination. Thank god for air conditioning, especially at night. I was going to say it makes sleeping easier, but I really do not have a problem with that day or night.

Now one reason that I have written so little (ok none), is that I have been really sick for the last 9 months. I won’t go into all the details as I have always hated an old dog that only talks about his maladies, but that is the main topic theses days. The big problem has been a devastating disease, Tick Fever, caused by a nasty little parasite named babesia. You would not believe it. This disease destroys red blood cells, causes neurological damage, and muscle wasting. In other words it’s a bitch, and I do not mean my female friends across the lane! I have had more trips to the vet and intravenous drips and drugs than you can imagine. “They” say, the cure is worse that the sickness. They are spot on! I also have gone for day without eating. I am very stubborn though, at least that is what I keep hearing from my humans, and I stuck it out. I am feeling much better for now. I have also retained my striking good looks, at least that’s the talk on the street!

Tick Fever has not been the only thing wrong. I have had other infections, a huge fatty deposit on my shoulder, toe nail problems and maybe even a small stroke. But hey, like I said I am doing very well now and even chased a nasty, smelly street dog at full throttle into traffic yesterday. Oh yeah, I am not supposed to talk about that because I did get into a bit of trouble over that incident.

Ok, so Sri Lanka. What to say, I live my pretty much the same everywhere I go. Although, there are a lot more people coming and going out of this compound than anyplace else I have lived. Well there is the house keeper, the cleaner-gardener, the constant deliveries of water, mail, meter readers, the boss’ driver, the constant in and out of the guards. I never had so many people around me before. Does not bother me though, I like the attention and every person brings another opportunity for falling food. I have gotten much luckier at begging, and having been sick all that time loosened people up a lot.

So back to my life, three walks a day minimum, if not by Bob, than by one of the guards. My best friend, Bennie, lives down the lane. We love to meet up when I am out for a walk. We have a special game we play, sniff, sniff, pee, sniff, pee, sniff! I absolutely love that game and just cannot get enough of it. I have another friend, Sky. She is a large and getting bigger German Shepard pony, er, I mean puppy who just loves to see me out and about. It has taken me a while to get used to her jumping and wiggling so much but I have come to love her after all. In human years she is about 84 years younger than me. It is important to show young kids that us old folks can be young at heart. And as far as the age difference thing, – us dogs never use that 7 dog years for every human year formula anyway. We stay much younger at heart that you people do. I think we just love more and do so unconditionally.

My Best Friend Khali

Being a African village dog, I have never had a fondness for felines. That being said, I now confess to a relationship with my cat Khali. Though it is difficult to admit, I guess that I love her. Wow, who would have thought!

One fine San Diego afternoon, Khali arrived at my doorstep in a big brown box. Leading up to this extraordinary life changing event were several weeks of discord in my house on Maple Street. I am not so good with the language of humans but I can certainly sense strife. In several heated interactions between Al and Robert, I observed a battle of wills taking place. This alone is not unusual. Though real punches are never thrown, these two guys can really have a go at each other! I later learned that the basis of this negative interaction lay in the acquisition of a cat. There was a 'pro stance' from Robert and a 'con stance' from Al. Had I been asked, I would have sided with Al but I guess that Robert won the day, because Khali was 'signed, sealed and delivered'!

Anyway, while I admit my own bias toward the feline species, Khali was not without her own set of prejudices toward canines! There ensued several uncomfortable incidents with much hissing and spitting, and general chaos, but after awhile, all settled down, a demilitarized zone was established and a truce was eventually signed.

Our life together has been full of adventure and she has became another constant companion. She is a 'Scaredy Kat' though. In the mornings, she always holds back and lets me exit the back door first. This actually has more to do with her own personal safety rather than a deference to me, ensuring that whoever may be lurking outside, gets the dog first. Still, I do understand the situation and have come to enjoy being her protector. She is after all, my cat.

A picture is worth a thousand words and since I am a canine of few words, the following is a picture story of me and my cat:

This is me and my cat Khali standing at the back door on Maple Street. We had some great times there.

Khali when she was just a little kitty.
That was when she was a good cat and somewhat controllable.

Khali with a broken leg. She did get into some situations.

I felt really sorry for her but she 'milked' this accident for all it was worth.

She looks so innocent when she is sleeping. But do not let that fool you.

Enjoying a nap with Khali.

A little more about me

I love to be walked. I say 'be walked' because I am not permitted to walk on my own, at least not outside of my own property. Now, I do not mean for this to sound restrictive, it is not at all. I would not want to walk alone although I do occasionally get carried away and run off in pursuit of a cat or rabbit. I love chasing squirrels. Anyway, I love to be walked; two times a day is the absolute minimum. Other interests of mine include napping, and being petted and or scratched. Lately I have become obsessed with licking myself. I am not sure if that classifies as an interest or not! Let's just drop that one shall we...

Bruno's Begining

The story of my adventure begins in the summer of 1993 on a rutted, dusty road at the base of the Nyika Plateau <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyika_Plateau>, a secluded nature preserve at the northern tip of Malawi. This was the place of my birth. Actually I was born in the adjacent village that nestled in the bush along side this dusty lane. The name of that village (if there was one) however, is long forgotten. Needless to say, it was a far cry from where I ended up.

After a long weekend of hiking and game tracking on the Plateau, the two guys that eventually became my human pack (Al & Robert) were traveling in a white Land Cruiser headed back to Lilongwe. Joining then on this ride were two Peace Corps volunteers and a cook from the Lodge who needed transportation assistance down the mountain.So, with Al driving, Robert sitting shotgun, and all remaining seats full, they headed south on a road rarely traveled by less adventurous folks. The road however ended quite abruptly as do so many in this part of the world. After maneuvering through field and scrubland for the longest time, they eventually ended up in my neck of the woods and headed in the right general direction.

Barreling along in an attempt to make up time, Al spots me with all my long, luxurious, black and tan fur, playing in the road and screeches to a halt, shouting , “That’s my dog!” I was a little taken aback by the approaching huge, metal mass going warp speed and quickly sought cover in the surrounding scrub.

With Malawian cook in hand, Al walked to the village in search of my owner. As luck would have it the man of my hut was away from the village and his wife was not empowered to strike a deal with these weird muzungu’s (white strangers). Runners were quickly sent out in the bush to find him and in his absence it was decided by a growing group of onlookers, that the village elders could negotiate a deal. 45 minutes of haggling and heated negotiations ensued and the sum of 45 Malawian Kwacha, the equivalent of seven US dollars was determined to be the acceptable offer. After the money exchanged hands, we were all back in the Land Cruiser headed south, me sitting in Robert’s lap. My village family really hit the lottery with that exchange and I was bound for a lifetime of joy and adventure.

Now I’d like to say the “beginning” ended here but there’s more.

Being the cute, little fur ball I was, I got right in the car and bid the village a fond farewell. Not it at all really! Oh yeah, I got in alright, but only after being chased hither and yon by the village children, after the deal was struck. So, there in the front seat, resigned to whatever fate awaited me, I curled up in Robert’s lap.

Now there’s a funny thing about all humans, god they love to cuddle a precious puppy! Everyone wanted a turn at holding me. I eventually ended up in the back seat, passed back and forth between the Peace Corps volunteers. There is also a funny thing about puppies, frequent handling causes bodily functions to increase! I guess the passing around stimulated my bladder…whoops! After a brief stop roadside, where I was pushed out the door and requested to finish my business, the trip continued.

Dog ownership for Idiots, Lesson one – Always encourage a puppy to pee before going for a long drive, especially if the puppy has never been in or anywhere near a car before!

Stopping in the town of Rumphi , I was taken on my first official walk. Al actually did the walking and I rode, cradled in his arms. Naturally, I was a big hit with the local shoppers and merchants and caused quite the stir, enough so to get an offer of purchase! Al however, sensing that he could not turn a quick profit, declined the overture. For some reason this brought on a rounding, chorus of’ “How much is that doggie in the window” and a lot of laughs enroute to the car. I was rather puzzled by all this. I mean with all due respect, I was a 45 kwacha DOG! I really was beginning to worry about my situation now!

Shortly after leaving Rumphi, my traveling companions discovered that I had brought along a few friends of my own! Well, we all have baggage guys! I guess I had enough fleas to cover four grown men and the entire interior of a Toyota Land Cruiser! Sorry about that but how was I to know? No one ever complained about this before! Talk about a bumpy road trip. As soon as we reached Lilongwe city limits, those Peace Corps volunteers were begging to be let out of the car. By the time we got back to Area 12, House 49, Robert and Al were both covered with little, red, bumps.

Dog ownership for Idiots, Lesson Two- Dogs gather fleas, especially African village dogs!

Upon my arrival at House 49, Area 12, I was quickly introduced to two characters I would become well acquainted with, Raphael and Fletcher, our loyal housekeeper and gardener. These guys became great friends of mine. Raphael could sure cook and Fletcher was always available for a little game of ‘chase the puppy around the compound’ in between his gardening duties. Anyway these guys took control of the situation, and before long both the car and I were squeaky clean.