Hazelton

What a lovely day spent walking around the harbour and discussing life.
As I was heading home I noticed everyone walking their dogs, and it made me really miss mine. He has been dead for 3 years already, and yet sometimes I miss his extreme affability and good-naturedness. I miss the thick white hair, the cold black nose and black eyes. I miss the hard skin of his feet and the too-long nails scratching on the wooden floors.

A few years back I impulsively took out Animal Poems (edited by John Hollander), and in it found a poem about an old Cocker Spaniel by Robert Penn Warren that was poignantly beautiful:

Bitten

The SPCA in Pretoria is closing due to lack of funding. Already I think we are a country where a large proportion of the population has no regard for animal life, be it because they are too poor to consider the well-being of animals beyond seeing them as a source of income/food or be it because culturally animals are considered either in their use as a protective device against intruders or as an investment (think for example of paying lobola or keeping a herd of cattle because they are a symbol of wealth). Now there will be one less place where the lost, the unwanted, the abused can go and maybe find a happier life with another adoptive family.

The feral dogs living in and around the townships are often classified as Africanis, and always look mangled, neglected, rejected and dangerous to me. However, in his photographic series of the same name Daniel Naudé has managed to capture the dogs in something of a regal light, in the same vein as old portraits of hunting dogs.

Africanis 10. Strydenburg, Northern Cape, 1 April 2008

Africanis 12. Richmond, Northern Cape, 4 April 2009

Africanis 19. Graaff-Reinet,
 Eastern Cape, 15 May 2010

Africanis 20. Petrusville,
 Northern Cape, 19 April 2011

We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky

The robbers wanted the jewellery.
I pointed at the earrings I had, mostly made of beads. They are valuable because there is the pair my friend brought me back as the gift; there are the ones another friend made out of coins for me for Christmas; there is the pair with the light-blue moonstone (?) that I stole from my mom and have never given back; there are gifts and self-bought earrings, but they have no dollar value that makes them worth stealing.
So the thief grabbed the box with the earrings I got for my 21st birthday, with jewellery I had bought as a child in Mexico, with objects I never really wore because they were too special. Hmm. Now someone else is wearing them.

Anyways. I am not so much for jewellery. Earrings, yes, bracelets, on occasion, but the rest you can keep. I like wearing earrings I have made myself, even if they are not identical. All the expensive gems have never had any allure. Even going to a diamond mine on Monday could not change that.

It was very interesting though. The Petra diamond mine in Cullinan (originally named the Premier mine and renamed the Cullinan mine for its centenary) is about 30 minutes drive from Pretoria, and  is the home of the largest diamond ever found. The Cullinan diamond was found in 1905 and given as a present to Edward VII by the Transvaal government. Then the diamond was split and cut into 9 major stones and 96 smaller stones, which form part of the British Crown Jewels. I thought this was pretty cool.

We went on a tour of the mine (you could also do an underground one, but we remained on the surface), and since it is still a fully functional mine we had the pleasure of wearing blue hard hats. It is fascinating how much money is spent to find the diamonds, and how much value a stone has. I don't really understand why people like diamonds so much. The industrial use of diamonds I can still see, but why would anyone spend millions on a stone that can so easily be lost? Also, it is not as though you will be wearing it often. It is a strange thing, this need to be bejewelled.

I don't know, maybe the rarity of a diamond is why some want it. But going down 1000m, deep into the heart of the earth for it? No, thank you. I found the myth surrounding diamonds unfitting to the physical labour needed to surface even one tiny little stone.

After the diamond tour we went to WetNose, to walk with some of the dogs, and somehow that was more rewarding than any stone I could stick on my finger or pin to my ears.

You know I need you now

I and the world.
What will I have for breakfast?
What do I want to do today?
What am I in the mood for?
What do I like?

I. I. I.
It's always about me, about how I am doing in my little life.
In an attempt not to become entirely self-obsessed or go stir-crazy, I enrolled for free online courses on Coursera and decided to volunteer at the SPCA or WetNose.

WetNose is an animal shelter where the animals can remain until someone adopts them, meaning that they are not put down after a certain amount of days. The centre is situated between Pretoria and Bronkhorstspruit, but the 15 minute driving estimate that their website gives is very optimistic. It's about 25km from my house to WetNose, and add onto that the R12 toll gate fee. So this is not the ideal volunteer job for a broke person.

Initially I was a bit confused as to what I should be doing, but then I was told that you can either walk the dogs or play with them or groom them. For the cats you can sit with them in their enclosures and try to let them allow you to touch them. For today I stuck to the dogs.

Luckily, there was another lady who was there for the first time, and thus we spent our time taking out dogs who shared an enclosure (most often they are on their own) for a walk and talking about ourselves (haha). In the four hours we were there, we walked 10 dogs, but that doesn't even make a dent in how many dogs there are. Fortunately there are other volunteers and the staff also walks with the animals.

My mom was probably afraid I would not be able to resist and take in a dog or five. But not knowing what the future holds means that it would not be fair adopting a dog now and then, a few months down the line, taking him/her back because I'm moving away.

I know volunteering is all about giving back to the community and helping out when someone is in need, but whereas people mostly choose the role they play in their own life, these animals did not deserve to be categorised as 'unwanted', 'stray' or 'seized'. No one deserves being abused, neglected or abandoned, be it human or animal.

Today was equal parts sad and joyous. It gladdens the heart to see that a little attention can go a long way to providing some happiness for dogs that are cooped up in little cells all day long. But it is also very disheartening to see the amount of animals that have been there for months, if not years. I hope that someone for all of them is found that is willing to adopt them despite not being puppies or pure bred or without issues.

In their song Sit down by the fire by The Veils, the singer says he is "drunk on the sadness of a world unmanned", but maybe the problem is that we feel the need to possess the world, that we need to control all that happens and are then terribly shaken by everything we cannot predict. I mean, I get agitated when the weatherman doesn't get tomorrow's weather right because it either leaves me carrying a jacket or missing one.

But perhaps the world would be a better place if it were entirely unmanned, only animaled. Nature would sort itself out without us ruining it all in an attempt to improve it all.

613 shades of sad

When last we were here I carried him up/down the 100 or so stairs from/to the beach. My mom brought a sled and we pulled him over the sand when he couldn't walk any more. A week after returning to Pretoria I had to put him down, on the 31. December 2011. Being back makes me remember my Spitzi, and how much I miss him.

Brain Pickings chose John Homans' What's a Dog For?: The Surprising History, Science, Philosophy, and Politics of Man's Best Friend as one of the Top 10 books of 2012, which led me to this cartoon in The Big New Yorker Book of Dogs.

via Brain Pickings

Mourning Part II

I won tickets to see Two Door Cinema Club, Isochronous and Desmond & the Tutus, courtesy of 5 Gum, and it really was a great night. Dancing, dancing and more dancing.

But at about 4 AM, our last dog Milou passed away. I don't know. When Spitzi died, it was horrible and I cried for days because he was the dog-of-dogs, the great character that cannot be replaced, the one that I still miss. Now, Milou, well he was also a little character. He often was a little bitch, growling and not liking children and having bad eyes and teeth due to the incestuous nature of the Yorkshire Terrier breed. He was a little rat, sneaking over to the neighbours and raping their poodle.

He could however also be a nice dog, one that wants to sit on your lap, one that squeezes tightly against your body in order not to be cold, one that 'smiles' when you get home, one that races you on the beach, one that sleeps on newly washed clothes, one that will be missed, dearly, as well.

ek stamel ek sterwe*

Die jaar toe ek weg was het ek dit gemis om jou elke oggend te sien en te sê: " Goeie môre bokkie, het jy lekker geslaap?"

Ek het dit gemis om my hande in jou vel te druk en om jou agter jou ore te krap.
Ek het jou gemis en wou na elk een toe stap wat soos jy gelyk het om hulle koppies te vryf.
Ek en jy, ons het saam grootgeword. Jy was altyd net hier, net waar ek jou nodig gehad het.

Jy kom soek my in die oggende, jy lê buite die badkamer se deur en wag, jy kom stamp jou neus teen my been as jy wil kos hê, jy poep soos geen ander nie, jy krap die deur om buite toe te gaan, jy pipi in die huis, jy het my verjaardagpersent geeet toe ek 9 was, jy kom lê onder my bene as ek 7de laan kyk, jy lê in die kombuis altyd in die pad, jy raak omgewonde as ek vir jou 'n kombersie op die vloer in my kamer sit, jy het die meubels se onderdele gekou toe ons in die VSA vir vakansie was, jy hou daarvan om jou kop by die venster uittesteek as ons ry, jy wat vroer jou lyf tussen die diefwering kon deursqueeze, jy wat my neus lek as ek jou optel, jy wat verlore was vir 'n middag, jy wat by die kar wag as jy al die bagasie sien, jy wat die perfekte groote is om 'n drukkie vir te gee, jy as enigste vir wie ek sê dat ek lief is vir jou.


As jy buite lê en slaap kyk ek of jou ribbe beweeg, of jy asem haal, omdat ek altyd bang is dat ek nie daar sal kan wees nie as alles verby is.

En nou was ek daar. Jy kon nie meer loop nie en ek moes jou dra. Toe ons by die veearts instap het ek al geweet maar gehoop jy het net iets slegs geeet. Ek het gedink ons sal somer vinnig weer by die huis wees, ek wou jou nog bad vir die nuwe jaar. Ons was 9 uur daar. 10 uur was ek alleen by die huis, sonder jou, sonder die kans om jou ooit weer te sien en te hoor en aan jou te vat.

Ek sien die heeltyd die klein lyfie voor my, die tong wat uithang, die tannie wat sê ek kan nou vir my "'n nuwe baba gaan kry" en hoe ek jou daar gelos het, alleen, hoe jy nou in 'n vrieskas wag om verbrand te word.

Jou bakkie staan nog hier en jou halsband lê op my tafel en jou kos staan in die kombuis en die bure se honde se ore voel soos joune en ek weet dit is belaglik en almal dink jy was net 'n hond en oud en dit moes gebeur en ek weet dis waar maar jy was myne. Jy was myne. En nou is jy weg en die huis leeg en as Milou alleen oor die vloere stap kan ek jou naels se getippel nog hoor.

Ek mis jou en dis eers een dag dat jy weg is.

Spitzi 15 November 1996 - 31. December 2011.

*

While I was away I missed greeting you in the mornings and saying : “Hello darling, did you sleep well?”

I missed you and wanted to walk up to everyone that looked like you and wanted to touch their faces. 

I missed it to run my hands through your fur and to scratch you behind your ears.

The two of us, we grew up together. You were always here, just when I needed you.   

You look for me in the mornings, you lie in front of the bathroom door waiting for me, you press your nose against my leg when you want to be fed, you fart like no other dog, you scratch the door to go outside, you pee in the house, you ate my birthday present when I turned 9, you lie underneath my legs when I am watching 7de Laan, you are always in the way in the kitchen, you get excited when I fetch a blanket to put in my room for you, you chewed the feet of our couches while we were holidaying in the USA, you like to have the car window open and stretching your face out of the car when we’re driving, you who could squeeze your body through the burglar bars, you who licks my nose when I pick you up, you who were lost for an afternoon, you while you wait anxiously by the car, afraid we’ll leave without you, you who are the perfect size to hug, you who are the only person I ever say “I love you” to.

  

When you are sleeping outside I watch to see if your ribcage is moving because I am always afraid that I won’t be there when everything comes to an end.

And now I was there. You couldn’t walk anymore and I had to carry you. When we walked into the vet’s I knew but I was hoping you had indigestion. I thought we would be out of there in no time; I still wanted to wash you for the New Year. We were there at 9. By 10 I was at home, without you, without the chance to ever see you or hear you or touch you.

I still see your little body, laying there, with your tongue sticking out, the lady holding me and saying that now I could buy myself “a new baby”, how I left you there, alone, how you are stuck in a freezer waiting to be burnt.

Your bowls are still here and your collar is on my table and your food is still in the kitchen and the neighbours' dogs' ears feel like yours and I know this is a bit ridiculous and everyone probably thinks I am exaggerating and thinking that you were just a dog and old and it had to happen and I know it is true but you were mine. You were mine. Now you are gone and the house is empty and when Milou walks across the floor I can still hear your nails scratching on it.

I miss you and it has only been one day that you have gone away from me. 

Greetings from the seaside

This is how my dogs roll. 

I hope everyone is having a getting into the holiday spirit and feeling festive. It is a bit ridiculous celebrating Christmas with a turkey and a Christmas tree when it is 35`C outside and you are wearing a summery dress, but after all one needs to reflect on what one is celebrating and for which reasons. I am not very religious and see Christmas more as a celebration of family, unity and peace, as a time to come together and share a meal, as a time to show appreciation for those around us and as a time of charity towards those less fortunate.

Well, this is just a short hello from the seaside, it seems my scheduled posts have worked.

A last goodbye from Spitzi himself: