The Puppy Caper

I decided when I left Malawi that I would not get involved with dogs again, especially not in Africa, where there are such mixed feelings about dogs. I didn’t bank on a stray mother dog picking my bamboo grove as a home for her puppies. But that is exactly what happened.

This stray was an emaciated thing, with her ribs showing and her skin hanging low. She wandered into my yard about 6 weeks ago. I resisted the temptation of feed her and actually chased her from the property a few times. Then one evening, I heard the whining and crying of puppies. I couldn’t see them, so I foolishly ignored them. I thought, I hoped, they might be in the neighbor’s yard. One afternoon three weeks ago, as I sat in my study, I saw the mother saunter past the picture window with five brown balls of fur following her. I pretended I didn’t see them and went back to my reading. That night, I heard them whimpering and crying. They have grown from scampering around the yard after their mother to romping on their own, exploring the grounds at will. One Friday morning there was no welcome mat when I stepped out the front door for chapel. My gardener/watchman, Jean Baptist, found it under one of the scrubs. One edge was frayed, where it had been dragged and chewed. I trimmed it, cleaned it and repositioned it. Monday it was missing again. I did the same thing. I am too passive about many things. Jean Baptist informed me that the puppies had taken up residence in the bamboo grove at the corner of my yard, where they had been born. The mother came and went. He complained about the puppy droppings all over the yard, and the tender planets that had been uprooted in their playing.

 About 4 a.m. last Tuesday, the lot of them got into a wrestling match, growling and barking so loudly they awakened me. They were playing under my bedroom window. When I left for Chapel, the mat was missing again. Jean Baptist approached me, pointing to the bamboo grove and insisting that we needed to do something about the puppies. In his limited English, he suggested taking them out to a grove of trees outside of town. I tried to explain that the mother dog would be the problem. I emphasized that I did not want any of the dogs hurt. I thought he understood. After lunch, I heard the gate open and saw Jean Baptist come in with an older gentleman with him. He had a plastic dish in his hand. I asked Jean Baptist what was going on. He showed me 2 packets of rat poisoning. I went ballistic. There was no way that I was going to allow those puppies to be hurt – transported, yes, but not hurt! Finally he understood. The older gentleman smiled and gave me a “thumbs up.” He clearly understood my position if not my language. He put the plate down and moved into the bamboo, to locate the puppies and bring them out. Jean Baptist got a box and a rope to tie the box, for the transportation. After an hour of moving in and out of the bamboo, they had two of the puppies in the box. The others had disappeared. The older gentleman left with the box to relocate the puppies. A short time later, the mother roamed the yard, sniffing, searching for her missing puppies. My heart sank. What had I done or allowed to be done? That night there was whining and barking under my window again.

Empty bamboo grove



The next day, the older gentleman approached the house just as I was leaving for chapel. He waved and smiled and went to the gate, greeted by Jean Baptist. I just kept walking. When I returned at lunch time, there was no sign of the remaining puppies. The mother dog came sniffing around the yard for the next few days but has since disappeared herself. Each time I leave the house, I look in the direction of the bamboo grove, but I know there is nothing to see. My hope is that the puppies are safely roaming somewhere out in the hills near Butare. I know that we could not have had six dogs tearing up the yard, dogs I would eventually give in to and would feed, dogs I would become responsible for. But all the same, I feel guilty and I wonder if I did the right thing in letting Jean Baptist have his way.