Named after Mohamed, my counterpart, Moody was quite the hotstepper.
He was a special friend of the chickens.
And he loved helping me with my crossword puzzles. (Here he is meditating on Thursday.)
Sadly, Moody succumbed to some mystery puppy sickness on Tuesday morning. Martin and I buried him in the garden with his cloth bone.
Our two guard dogs, Simba and Chui (lion and leopard in Swahili), ran off about a week ago in search of some female companionship and have not yet returned. Martin thinks someone may be holding them against their will, but as yet there has been no ransom note. We all know I love a good mystery, but this one is beyond my capacity to solve.
I brought home one of Moody's brothers yesterday for Martin to replace the lost guard dogs. Martin asked for a big dog, and the new puppy might not be as big as what he had in mind, but he will grow. He is hardier and heartier than Moody (the runt of seven) was and stands a good chance of making it to full-fledged vicious-to-strangers adulthood. Martin already loves him so much, he named him Nicole.
As my time here grows shorter, I am thankful that the dogs have brought Martin and I closer together. I have learned so many new vocabulary words in Swahili, like minyoo (worms), viroboto (fleas), kufa (to die), and others that are purely for the purpose of describing dogs, their maladies, and their actions. We have spent many a night making the universal throw-up noises that transcend language (the first time was after Moody pooped out a pink, tennis-ball-sized mesh of twine-like worms). And I have learned more about Martin as a compassionate person as I have seen him care for the little (and big) dogs. While we won't be able to discuss the ethics of international service learning projects or the plot of a Spanish soap opera on TV, we can laugh together and take care of each other and our pets. I am thankful to have a friend like him.
Happy Thanksgiving!
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