The Dog Days

I would start to write. Then my mind would suddenly get side tracked. Until I stopped writing blogging for the past few months because I could never be patient enough to sit down and write. I also ran into a few computer problems. As usual.

I just finished with the most enjoyable bucket bath. I had a glass of wine (in a coffee mug), burned some incense, and had a few candles lit on the wall (since my solar lights don’t work). I needed something like that after the past few weeks. Sometimes you win. Other times you don’t. I’ve been re-adjusting and unmotivated. When another one of your projects don’t work out you lose confidence in your ability to do what THEY expected you to come here and do. This is not a post about failure. I’m not done yet and in order to be successful sometimes you have to fail. I actually have quite a bit to look forward to in the next few months! I’ve had enough rambling about my current situation.

Upon request from a few individuals I am here to write the infamous story of how I obtained my little fuzz ball (who isn’t so little anymore). I just finished spending nearly 3 weeks preparing and directing a camp (all of this will be in another post… pinky promise). Once the fun was over I was required to attend our annual All Volunteer Conference. This is where we get together, socialize, share ideas, and get re-motivated. Those few days I was EXHAUSTED beyond belief and spent most of my day lying on my bed watching movies with my eyes closed. After three days of being a zombie and trying to participate, a few of the volunteers from the newest group were heading to see waterfalls in the East. I’ve never been to Sipi falls. I figured I could use a ‘vacation’ after camp and… why not go East? I’m already half way between the East and West of the country I might as well keep going. We leave the next morning and hop on the first available bus to Mbale town. Due to ‘road construction’ we are delayed and arrive in Mbale not long before dusk. It was between staying in town at a hotel or hiring a car to drive us to the falls so we could sleep there. Clearly we all chose option two. Just after dusk we arrive at our destination: a quiet little place built on a slope with multiple dorm and other rooms. The manager hands 3 of us lamps and he leads us down a rocky stone path. After a minute of being blinded by the torch light and feeling my way down these ‘steps’ we reach a long building with an equally long front porch. Out of the four dorm rooms the 7 of us occupied two of them.

After a day on the bus and no food in our stomachs we try to order food but the only thing we could order at that hour was beer. Luckily another volunteer bought bread and peanut butter at the store in Kampala. Good thinking. We sat on the porch listening to music and enjoying the comforts of being able to stretch out fully. If you were quiet enough you could hear the waterfall crashing in the distance. With the moon out you could even see the faint flow of water sweeping over the top of the cliff. In the past few weeks I was so stressed and unrested that I finally felt a clear moment of peace. The night before my life here changed.

The next morning we woke bright and early to enjoy a cup of coffee and the view on the porch before our hike. We started the hike by walking down to the base and biggest section of the 3 connecting falls. As you get closer the roaring sound of the water crashing into the rocks gets louder and louder until you get a chill as the mist slowly falls around you. The air gets cooler and all of your senses are awakened. It was almost magical. This isn’t the first waterfall I have seen but it has been the first waterfall I could really experience up close. This close. I remember standing on a boulder at the bottom. Just in front of where the water spilled over the edge. The power I felt was natural. The gusts of wind blowing the cold mist through me. It was an experience that words can’t fully describe. A rare and breathless moment.  We climbed up a rickety log ladder and followed a path through the villages that would lead us to the top waterfall.

While walking along a narrow path we meet this woman carrying a small plastic bag with two puppy heads sticking out. Another volunteer asked if we could hold them. The others reached for the cute on who looks like he’s been dripped in caramel while I grab the big-eared brown and black fuzz ball . I asked where the woman was going and she said she was walking to the market to sell the dogs. I was curious so I asked how much a dog goes for. ((Now this may have seen spontaneous and irresponsible. In reality it probably was one or both but I have been thinking about getting a dog for a while. I even had one ready to take home at the school where the camp was held. The thing is… this one is here… right now in front of me… and no matter which one I choose…. I have to transport it home on a 2 day, 15 hour trip.) The nyabo (lady) told me 20,000… so I asked if she would take 10,000. After some expert bargaining I reduced the price to 16,000 for a puppy of my choosing (just over $6). I was kind and gave her 20,000 anyways for being such a good sport. When it came to choosing I couldn’t resist the caramel fuzzball with floppy ears. Honestly how could anybody?

I’ve been thinking of names for a dog but I think it’s important to meet something before you name it. As I was going through names a fellow volunteer suggested the name Sipi. Perfect J That way I will never forget where he comes from. I was worried for a bit by his lack of energy and a small gash he had on his foot but after all he was only about four weeks and with a little care his wound healed up in no time.

I carried him for nearly five hours on the hike. When we got close to the falls he was so small that I would wrap him up in my bandanna to keep him warm. The rest of the hike we climbed rocks, sat on the edge of the top of a waterfall, and washed up under another one. I was prepared and made sure to bring my shampoo and body lotion just in case the opportunity to shower came up.  Sipi slept in a pile of rain jackets while we played around in the water, but made sure he stepped in Sipi Falls before I took him to his new home .

In town I bought a small plastic basket generally used for carrying food. For the next few days I fed him milk and had him sleep on the bed with me so he wouldn’t get stepped on while I was sharing a dorm room with others. I took my time taking him home with multiple bus rides and hotel stays. On public transport he would be in the basket on my lap. I once even asked the driver to stop so my dog could short call (pee). Luckily I was able to read the signs when he needed to pee. When I was at a hotel I would carry him downstairs nearly every hour to prevent him from making puddles and mud pies everywhere and it worked. I got him home and had him trained to do his business outside in no time.

For the first month I didn't spend more than a few hours away from him. If I went on a trip that was close enough I would take him with me and have him sit on my lap. Luckily at this age he just falls asleep for most of the ride or stares out the window. When I left to visit home for a month I was fortunate enough to find a volunteer and another friend take turn watching him. When I left he was a puppy with razor sharp teeth and disproportionate paws. When I came back I saw a small dog. It amazes me how fast things grow.

I feed him rice, fish, and meat (that I have to cut up and cook myself/ yuck). I walk him at least once a day whether it’s with a purpose to get a few things from town or just ambling through the villages (if its not to rainy or hot out). He is even up to date on shots (ordered a shot from Kampala and had it shipped on a bus). Side note: when you buy shots here usually you purchase your own solvent, syringe, and administer the shot yourself... which I wasn't about to do so I had some help. Unfortunately the fleas here are on a mission and I have to spray him down with repellent and bathe him more often than most dogs. He is a lot of work but the company and security he provides me is nice.

I’m still undecided if I should take him home or find him a new and good one here for him. After all he is Ugandan and this is his home but it is an unfortunate place to be a dog.  I need to do some research still. In the end everything will work itself out.

View from the porch

All grown up... half way

6.5 months old

Do I look fat today?