I grew up in a household that enjoyed the company of
dogs. Somewhere there’s a picture of me
as an 18 month old with my arms around our white English Boxer, Bullet. Ever since I can remember, dogs have been a
part of my household – except, maybe, during undergrad, and a couple of other
brief interludes. I’ve had bird dogs, a Golden
Retriever, poodle, chihuahua, Jack Russell, dachshund and others.
At one time, as a high schooler, I acquired an English
Setter. I laboriously built her an 8 x 12 concrete-floored pen, with six foot high
welded wire on creosote posts. On a
daily basis I was out there mixing the concrete in a tub by hand to pour 8 feet
by 18 inch slabs. I don’t recall how
many tubs it took to pour the 12 feet, but, I can attest to the fact that was a
lot of concrete mixing. And, if you’ve
ever mixed concrete by hand, you know how hard the work is. I built the pen with the floor on a slight
slope to the rear to better facilitate the rinsing of the dog poo, and I
religiously rinsed her poo to maintain a sanitary pen for her. God knows, that was a long time ago. I kept her two weeks.
The problem was this:
I kept her in that 8 x 12 pen all the time. I was in high school. I had an afternoon part-time job at the
Chevrolet place. I studied
religiously. I had no time to be a
companion to that dog. I couldn’t handle
that. When I let her out on the weekend,
she would run, sometimes several blocks. I simply could not keep her confined like
that. I hope I don’t need to tell you that that was
a profound learning lesson for me. I
forbad my children from having a dog unless they persuaded me that THEY could
be companions TO the dog – NOT the other way around. Anyway, I love dogs. And I will go so far as saying I think that
maybe there’s something not quite right with people who don’t. Enough said about that.
Here in American Samoa, dogs are everywhere. They run loose – on and off private property,
frequently in the road, although I’ve yet to see a dog carcass on the road. Perhaps that is due to the fact that the
maximum speed limit on the island is 25 miles per hour, and even less in
certain places. People typically drive
even slower. One reason is the quality
of the roads. Potholes are common
features on the secondary roads, thus it is necessary to drive slowly. But, the slow speeds are more a matter of safety
– and, courtesy. The roads are crowded
and slow speed facilitates the courtesy of allowing oncoming traffic wishing a
left turn, to turn in front of you. It
allows a vehicle wishing to enter traffic from the roadside – from either the
right or the left, the opportunity to enter traffic. It allows for people to cross the road. You might think that no one would ever be
able to move down the road given these generous courtesies. You would be wrong. Indeed, the net effect, the unexpected upshot
is that, although traffic does move slowly, it moves along extremely
efficiently – especially given the volume of traffic and the proliferation of
busses. It is simply remarkable. Slowing down and being nice brings with it
unexpected benefits, not the least of which is a noticeable decrease in any
sense of road rage. Thus, after all that
analysis, the absence of dog carcasses on the roadways is not too terribly
surprising, even in light of the fact that dogs are everywhere in the road.
I get the sense that dogs are beloved and sacred animals
here, much as cows are in India. The
problem is, who cares for them? Many I
have seen are mangy and obviously uncared for.
I’ve seen many females with extended teats, giving me the impression they’ve
had many litters of pups. There’s an
oral ritual among the palagi (pah-lahngy – non-Samoans) that the dogs are
always ready to attack. I haven’t seen
that, although I am not discounting the truth of the rumor. The strategy for defense is to bend down as
if picking up a rock then make a throwing motion. Some people carry sticks. These dogs barely hit 30 pounds, if that, and
I personally am not at all concerned about a dog attack. But they are everywhere. Perhaps they serve as watch dogs, alerting
owners of certain private beaches that an intruder has entered our sacred
ground…
(By the way, I am a palagi.
White folks comprise maybe 1 % of the population. Thus, I am in the distinct minority. But, no worries. I’ve never felt anything but the warmest of
welcomings into the community. Unlike
the life experiences of some others I’ve observed growing up in the racist
southern United States.)
Now, to another canine-referenced mammal. Namely, the flying fox. All my life, I’ve watched small brown bats
flying at dusk catching small bugs. And,
I can tell you the air is full of small bugs.
What does your windshield look like after driving at night? I used to sit and smoke cigarettes under the
ceiling fans on the treehouse front porch of my house , only to be pummeled by
small bugs haplessly finding themselves propelled upon me by the ceiling
fans. The good Lord sure provides for
brown bats. I haven’t yet seen a small
brown bat here. But, I have seen flying
foxes. Flying foxes are fruit bats, about
the size of maybe a Pomeranian. Every
night at dusk they fly over my apartment to their feeding grounds. Most often they fly a hundred feet or so above,
but sometimes one will fly only about 10 or 20 feet above, so close over my
head I almost feel I could reach out and grab one. I’ve watched them disappear into the canopy
of the woods directly behind my house.
I’ve unsuccessfully tried to get a picture of them flying over my
balcony. I assure you, their silhouette
is bat-shaped, and, beautiful. These
flying foxes are simply taking advantage of the prodigious foods provided in
this Eden. How cool is it that they are
flying directly above my deck? Way
cool. Do not make the mistake giving
these bats a bad rap. Flying Foxes are
purely fruit eaters. Thanks.
Next up: Man Dresses.
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