Gone to The Dogs

 

I realise that I went to the dogs years ago. I have had over a dozen dogs at any given time since about 1997. That's a long time. At first we were a normal family, sort of. We started with one baladi dog in Alexandria, and when she vanished one day we collected a pair of sisters from Smouha Club. We stuck with two dogs for a while when we moved to Cairo, until my daughter and I went to Greece on a spring break, and we found Molly sitting in the snow on a mountain. From the face she looked like a Golden Retriever and from the butt she looked like a Corgi. We brought her home, telling my husband as we took her off the luggage carousel that we had another baladi dog, but a Greek one this time. Then came the Rat Terriers.

My husband had built an enormous grain discharge terminal in Alexandria that was wonderfully computerised. Because Alex can be pretty wet in the winter, he built special tunnels to keep his computer cables dry. The rats loved the tunnels and enjoyed filing down their teeth on the computer cables, so I was instructed to find a green solution to the rodent problem. I found American Rat Terriers, a small working breed (meaning they don't have to look like anything in particular) that specialised in hunting rodents and other vermin. We started with a pregnant female and a young male figuring that since they were totally unrelated, Bluto could work as a stud for both Terra and her daughters to be. The only problem was that she had three sons in her first litter so we had to get a couple more females. In no time at all, RatBusters (we registered the kennel) had an easy dozen dogs to add to the three already there. Some of them went to the grain terminal to work and some stayed in Maadi with me. When my husband died, I had a pack of six males in Alexandria and a pack of six females ready to go to Borg el Arab to the soy bean crushing plant there. And I still had some that stayed with me along with a variety of homeless hounds that wandered through.

My move to the area near Abu Sir to buy land for my farm was accompanied by at least a dozen dogs. I moved about ten of the Rat Terriers who were shortly joined by another six from the grain discharge terminal because my brother-in-law hated dogs. I had our old baladi dog, Ganja, a crippled Dalmation, the Corgi mix from Greece as well, and shortly thereafter I got a young Great Dane. Our next move to the farm was quite simple and was accomplished by donkey cart for the furniture. The dogs and I just walked the 80 meters from the door of the old garden to the new front door, as we had been doing ´very day over the previous 6 months. Once we'd moved into the new house on the farm, it was a matter of training staff to close doors so that the dogs wouldn't wander and terrify the neighbours.But not long after I'd moved to the farm, a pup arrived there that was going to change my life enormously.

I'm not sure how Finn arrived, but the first time I ever saw him he was standing in the baking tray that I used for dog kibble, eating as fast as he could, his normally curly tail stretched straight out in concentration. The dog pack was standing and sitting all around him, looking on with interest but no animosity, so I decided that he clearly was meant to be here and we accepted our fate. I called him Finn after Huckleberry Finn, as he seemed very assured of himself and was obviously adventurous. Finn was the archetypal baladi dog, sand yellow, short haired, curly tail, tipped ears, and a small bit of white on his toes, the end of his tail and a flash on his chest. What was not archetypal was his size. He was much taller than any of the local baladis, and I always wondered if he had a touch of Dane in him, as there were some Great Danes in the neighbourhood, occasionally consorting with the baladi females. There was nothing of the Dane features in his face however.  When he arrived, sometime around 2005 or 2006, the pack leadership was in the hands of Koheila, the Dalmation who had an intellect that made us decide that she was actually an extraterrestrial, and Terra, the first arrival and the ranking female in the Rat Terrier pack. Koheila was not a large dog, but she took it upon herself to order the others to go attend to the gate if anyone came, while she herself would come to me to announce the visitors. Terra was a tiny dog with a fierce personality who never left my side and could intimidate anyone who came to see me if she felt that something was not right. These two ladies trained Finn well.

Terra and Koheila were getting older. Terra died at 17 and Koheila at 14, but I had time to notice that they were in fact training Finn to take over leadership of the pack as they were aging. They spent a lot of time with him, possibly conversing...who knows? They were tougher on him than others when he made mistakes. And eventually he took over as pack leader. Koheila still did the announcements and Terra owned the pillow on the bed, but they sat back from the more physical interactions with the other dogs as they aged. If Finn was out of the garden for a while he would check in with the old ladies, licking them on the face and lying on his back before them. It was clear that they still wielded quite a lot of canine power and I was getting better at watching it all and understanding. At this point most of the visitors to the farm were coming to go horseback riding, and, while they might stay for a cup of tea, they weren't staying all day the way that people do now. As the old terriers died, new dogs came to the farm to take their places. Most of them were baladi dogs and most of the time they just appeared. We did take in a couple of adult Great Danes after Morgana died, but they never challenged Finn's leadership. The male, Zook, basically ignored him good naturedly. Mindy, the grey female, became Finn's special friend and consort. They were devoted to each other. All the time there were young dogs coming and old dogs leaving, and I gradually became more aware of what a great job Finn did of keeping everyone in line. When young dogs became too excited at the arrivals of friends, he would growl a bit to tell them to relax. 

 

One of the things that I discovered with Finn was that he would talk to me about things. It took me some time to learn to understand what he was trying to get across to me. He disapproved of any physical punishment of dogs, not that it was often used. One time when two of the younger dogs got into a tiff, and I swung a foot at them in frustration (missing them entirely I must say), I felt a pain in my gluteus maximus that was a nip from Finn. I was shocked and stood there staring at him. He stared back without any shame at all, making his point. Conversations with dogs, like conversations with horses, are often on a level that is almost a form of telepathy. Until Finn, I hadn't really had dogs that bothered to vocalise, and he had a remarkably wide range of sounds that he used to get information across. The dogs that have grown up in his pack are extremely vocal and talk to us all the time. JC, our baladi wolfdog, came during Finn's last years and Finn chose him to take over the alpha position with Calaypso who has a mix of mastiff and pitbull in her background.  At about six months, JC's wolfy side began to appear and he taught the pack to do some very reputable howls. They also talk to visitors that they know well. Just today a family arrived and announced to me that Calypso, JC's co-chief, had come up to their care and talked a streak as they were walking in. I've learned a lot from the pooches and will probably continue to do so.

 

 

 

 

copyright 2020 Maryanne Stroud Gabbani

Definitely a Haven

Our world is a messy place although in many parts people tend to be able to hide the messiness better than in others. North America or Europe with its leash laws, humane societies, and animal rights activists almost makes one think that everything is more or less under control. It isn't, of course, since the very nature of life is change, but when North Americans and Europeans come to Egypt where normality is simply more chaotic than normality elsewhere, they are often rather shocked at the stray animals and working horses and donkeys. In some respects, Egypt is still living in the 19th century. The only working horses in New York City are the police horses or the carriage horses in Central Park, and there are plenty of interest groups that feel that it is inhumane to make horses work in any way and would like to see them abolished. My personal experience is that horses like working with people when the work is reasonable and the care is good, so that is not a great solution.

When I moved here in the late 80's finding a veterinarian to treat a cat in Alexandria was a major feat of detective work, and to be honest the first vet I ever found was pretty awful. Twenty years on things have changed quite a bit and we have a fairly good sampling of decent veterinary clinics in Cairo and Alexandria. Another change that I've seen has been an increase in the number of animal relief associations and animal shelters. Since these are a relatively new idea here, most of the population of Egypt is still trying to understand how they work. Keeping dogs and cats as pets is not that common in the general population, although it's often the case that a doorman will have a local cat or dog who knows where it can get a free meal in exchange for some guard work or ratcatching. These animals are not "pets" in the usual sense, but are more free-roaming partners who live without benefit of vaccinations or neutering and are subject to the stresses of random breeding. This is also the case for the farm dogs out here in the countryside. While this seems tough to people raised in orderly cities abroad, it is in fact the way of the world in less controlled environments.

I've visited quite a few animal shelters over the years and to be honest, most of them give me the willies. Quite a few end up housing large numbers of randomly "rescued" dogs and cats who have no hope of ever being placed in a comfortable environment and who are left to live in pens and cages that are often overcrowded, noisy, dirty and stressful. The low levels of funding for shelters have something to do with these conditions as do the wishes of the keepers to "save" these animals from life on the streets. I understand the problems of keeping large numbers of animals, having fifteen dogs myself (not by choice, believe me) and just visiting some of these places is enough to send me running for a calm place to collect my thoughts.

I have a group of high school students coming to stay at the farm for two weeks in June and was looking for some opportunities for volunteer work in the area, so I went to visit a few of the local shelters. One of them was eliminated immediately as I had some very real concerns for the safety of the students with the way that the dogs were kept. The tension level in the pens were quite sufficient that I could see fights breaking out quite easily. I went on to a new shelter primarily for cats and was quite delighted to find Animal Haven's new spaces. Noura el Daly had been working with her cats in Maadi for years but recently her sister offered her space out near our farms. A compound was built consisting of a series of rooms built around courtyards that afforded cats their choices of rooms in which to sleep and sunny spots for relaxation. The cats, and there are quite a lot of them, are not necessarily confined to one room and courtyard, but if they are sufficiently well-socialised, they can move among a choice of rooms, including one that has a ramp leading to a space on the roof.

There were more cats than I've seen in one place in a long, long time. Every possible colour and hair length was represented. Many of these cats are adult but rather than being frightened of humans and trying to escape attention, they sauntered over to purr against legs and offer heads for scratches and stroking. Dishes of food, rice with chicken, stood around for the cats to be able to eat at their leisure, and wooden benches covered in toweling, baskets, shelves and other interesting structures provided places for the cats to curl, sprawl, groom, and cuddle. The entire area was spotless and the attendants made a point of introducing us to their favourite inmates. The cats are neutered, vaccinated and available for adoption, but all too often people are wanting the cute factor of kittens and not interested in adult cats. I've had a lot of cats in my life and have had no problems adopting sympathetic adult cats. In fact, not having to put up with the crazy running around of kittens that almost inevitably leads to broken objects and torn curtains has been a real plus. One of our cats when we lived in Maadi was a totally blind female who wound herself around my daughter's legs just outside our doctor's office one afternoon. We called her Amelia and she presented us with four kittens as well in fairly short order. We were fortunate in being able to find homes for all the kittens and for Amelia as well, since we didn't think that it was fair to a blind cat for her to have to deal with a household with dogs as well.

Animal Haven isn't a dog shelter but they have a few dogs who have been left at the doorstep, so to speak. The dogs are baladi dogs, the street/desert/farm mutts that are ubiquitous here. They are also the smartest, most loyal, healthiest dogs that anyone could find and make the best possible watchdogs. I have two who patrol the farm every evening while my terriers find the best spots on the bed. The dogs are also given enough room, cleanliness, food and attention to make them delightful companions. I spoke to Noura after my visit suggesting that the students could come to help care for the animals, repair benches and baskets, and perhaps to do some rudimentary dog training to help make the dogs more adoptable. We'll see how things work out, but this is really a wonderful effort and hopefully more people will find their way out to adopt cats and the odd dog from Animal Haven.

copyright 2009 Maryanne Stroud Gabbani

Going Out With A Bang

Although they are illegal and quite dangerous, Egypt has a thriving fireworks industry at a cottage level. Small factories make what we used to call cherry bombs (wads of paper with explosive powder and a bit of grit in them that explode when thrown against something), rockets and firecrackers, all of which are part of traditional festivities on the feasts and at weddings in the rural areas. The people who work in these industries suffer injuries fairly constantly and the users of the noisemakers also are injured with great regularity. So when the police get the chance to impound fireworks they do...but one could truly wish that they'd do a better job.

A couple of days ago one or two truckloads (depending on to whom one is speaking) were seized by the police in the area near Shubramant. Concerned that they might be explosive...I would imagine that they would be...the police rather haphazardly hosed down the cargo with water and then dumped it. Where was it disposed of? In the desert, most likely near the Giza Municipal Dump just up the road from us. Day before yesterday, innumerable grain bags of illegal fireworks were appearing all over the area between Abu Sir and Zawia/Shubramant to the delight of the children of the area. After all, most of the garbage in the dump is checked over for recycling, so why not recycle it, right? From about 4 pm on Wednesday to the present the air has crackled with explosions fairly constantly. The first night it went on all night, with a lot of very crabby adults wandering around the next day.

Of my ridiculously high dog population, probably 90% are terrified of the noise of fireworks, so I have about a dozen dogs running in circles all day barking at the unseen threat or running for shelter under my legs, in my bedroom, in the shower, in the kitchen...wherever. After two days of this nonsense, they are no longer barking at explosions more than about 300 metres away, thank heaven, but a neighbour estimates the supplies at sufficient for about two more days of this lunacy. Who knows, maybe this will get them so overloaded with fear that they will stop being frightened? I'd rather not be using the technique however.

Of even more concern with the vast quantities of these fireworks being used is the fact that children are being injured by them in the villages. I saw one boy not more than about seven years old clutching a round cluster of rockets in his fist and showing them to friends with delight. Heart-stopping. My housekeeper confirmed that there had been injuries to children in the Abu Sir area and the local omda did try, although unsuccessfully, to stop the spread of the illegal bounty at the beginning of the siege. But there were simply too many to collect and they were already too widespread. One would truly wish that when the police do something for the public good, it really would be for the public good. Frankly, it would have been better to send those trucks on their way than to spread these things around the villages the way they did. Unfortunately, until a child is injured, the fireworks are seen as being relatively harmless by most parents who grew up with their use.

copyright 2008 Maryanne Stroud Gabbani

Oh RATS!

Zipping through the news, I found a video on Reuters of the rat invasions in China. If you click on the title here, you can get to the site. The video is amazing.

Aside from the sheer horror of rivers of rats, it's worth thinking about the fact that China has basically made having dogs illegal. Now my pack of Rat Terriers would be in terrier heaven. Maybe they need an airlift from some of the terrier clubs. We have three species of rat in Egypt so we could have lots of rat problems except for the work of the baladi dogs and cats. Bless them.

copyright 2007 Maryanne Stroud Gabbani