Look how cute her markings are, and luckily her paws are pretty small

On Saturday afternoon Kaja and I were heading for a late afternoon coffee before meeting up with friends and colleagues for dinner. Walking down the street where we live, about two blocks from home, Kaja said something along the lines of "look!" pointing ahead of us. At first I didn't see what she was pointing at. But as we got closer, there he was, wandering all alone, a little puppy.

We both crouched down to get a better look. A little skinny and wandering the streets alone, we decided that this wasn't a good situation to be in as a puppy. We looked around for a bit, but no momma dog was in sight. After a discussion of what we should do (let nature take it's course, or rescue her; the sustainability issue when our contracts are up, etc), we decided that we should take him home and give it a shot.

So we picked up the little girl and carried her home to our compound. At home Kaja mixed up some powdered milk. We poured the milk into a saucer and he lapped it up right away. After a few cuddles, we resumed our coffee mission and left the puppy at home, wondering whether he'd survive, and instructing our guard to feed her the rest of the milk in two hours..

After a nice dinner with friends we had a nightcap (g & t) on the way home. After a drink we stopped at the office on the way home to get an old cardboard box for paper to make a little nest for him. When we got home the puppy was sleeping in between my running shoes by the door. Kaja mixed up a bit more milk and fed her again while I looked through my closet for a t-shirt or likewise for his bed. I decided the (white) COP15 polo t-shirt would be perfect, since I'd never wear it again, and I have more than one - should I change my mind. We gave him a few more cuddles before heading to bed, leaving the box beside the front door, hoping he’d make use of it and make it through the night.

At 5 am I woke to the sound of the puppy crying. A relief, since before I was falling asleep my mind had been turning over all the possible ways the puppy could die, including being snatched up by one of the kites that soar in the air around. There are lots in our neighbourhood. I crawled out of bed, threw on my Somali dress, mixed up some milk and went outside to feed the puppy. After about 15 minutes I decided to go back to bed, but back in bed sleep was impossible, so I jumped in the shower, appreciating running water - even if it was cold - after a week of bucket showers.

Kaja returned from a few laps around the stadium and after showering, we went on our mission: morning coffee, cheese at Rita "supermarket" and baby formula. We had decided the night before that maybe we should be feeding the puppy baby milk replacer and not the regular powdered milk. After coffee we walked to the supermarket for cheese and four pharmacies to look for baby milk, all unsuccessfully. We finally found the milk at little kiosk. The town was quite and the polling stations were too, so early in the morning on Election Day.

When we got home the puppy, which was sleeping in the little nest we’d made for him, woke up and looked both hungry and happy to see us. So after mixing up a combination of the powdered milk we’d been using and the new milk replacer let him lap it up, her little puppy belly growing with each gulp.

The rest of the day was spent alternating between the living room and the porch. We made a make-shift gate to block the front door with a sofa cushion and settled in front of the television for some news, lunch and relaxing. When exhausting the news on our four English news channels, I took a sofa cushion outside and cuddled with the puppy, who alternated between sleeping and peeing. Kaja joined the veranda hang out and a bottle of wine, music, books and cleaning up after the puppy were the order of the afternoon.

It’s Monday now and we’ve developed a strategy for breaking the puppy in and a feeding schedule. We’re not really too sure how well it’ll go, but we’re trying to get the puppy to use the toilet only on our little garden area and prevent accidents on the porch, which we’ve washed with a Dettol-rip off to try eliminate any scent.

When we come home we mix up some milk and wake the puppy gently and all cuddly then take him over to his feeding area. Once he’s lapped up the milk, we carry her straight to the garden for some elimination communication. I did feel a little silly crouching at the flowerbed repeating pee and poo to the puppy, and then praising him enthusiastically when she did it, but we’ve got to start somewhere. We had two successful go’s at it during the lunch hour which hopefully is more than coincidence. After eliminating, I take him to a basin with some water and wash her little puppy paws and splash some water on him to get him used to water and play with her on the porch. Hopefully it’s building some positive association.

Our strategy also includes yelping, growling and flipping her on her back when he mouths and “bites” us. It’s normal puppy behaviour but with not mother or littermates to tell him what’s appropriate and what’s too much, I guess it’s our job. And since we’re trying to make him the guest house dog, so he has someone to take care of him when we leave, teaching her good manners is essential, as well as making sure she’s not being aggressive or dominant towards the people she comes in contact with.

Today I enlisted the help of one of our many vets on staff to get some de-worming pills and other parasite control so we can make sure he’s healthy and happy and not sharing his milk with some tapeworm.

Now I’m off to the compound to see if we can repeat the elimination communication success of lunchtime.

Fan police & Bucket showers

Monday was a day full of excitement, at least by standards here. Late Sunday the power had started to wane and I just called out to my roommate something like, “looks like we’re going to loose power” when the lights cut out.

Still in the high 20’s at close to 10 pm, the prospect of sleeping without a fan wasn’t exactly welcomed by either one of us. Kaja turned in for the evening and I played around on my computer for a while, editing photos of my showdown with a butterfly I’d had earlier in the day.

Eventually I dragged myself to my room by candlelight and tried to position the window and curtains for optimal ventilation without pulling the curtains too far back. Half the vehicles park in our compound overnight as in case of early field trips, I didn’t want to be completely exposed in my sleep. After a bit of adjusting, I blew out the candle and climbed under my mosquito net, ready for bed. But the heat was a challenge and after lying awake for a while, I decided to have a shower to cool down.

Cooled down from my cold candlelight shower, I crawled back into bed only to be tormented by the sounds of the taps dripping in the bathroom. I spent a bit of time trying to decide if they were letting up, or I hadn’t turned the taps quite enough. I got up check, but couldn’t tighten them anymore. Back in bed the drip, drip, drip of the showerhead onto the metal floor of our shower continued to tease. I called up all my inner strength to ignore it, counting breaths to force mind over matter.

That’s when the wind started. A welcome breeze made its way through the opening in the carefully positioned curtains. At last, I thought. But then the door to the bathroom started creaking. The wind coming through the open bathroom window in gusts sent the door swaying back and forth ever so slightly, but just enough to set the creaking off.

I debated getting out of bed again to close the window, but during my contemplations, I heard my roommate get up. Finally I drifted off.

Monday morning we woke up without power, still. However, in the morning it’s not a big deal. I grabbed a quick shower and headed to the office where I knew the generators would be running, needing power to re-charge my computer battery if I was to get any work one and to run the fan in the office once the mercury started rising – usually as early at 10 am. The generator was indeed running, and Monday was a scorcher with a relative humidity above 50 per cent. During the course of the day the generator would intermittently cut off, halting the relief of the fan and returning me to battery-power.

To combat the problem of the generator dying, Abdi, one of our logistics/facilities guys, took it upon himself to be the fan-police. Going from office to office with a message of, “I know it is very hot today, but you can not use the ventilator. It uses too much power for the generator.” I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who met Abdi with an incredulous look that read something like, “you’ve got to be kidding.” Really, he should have been going around asking us to turn off our computers, they consume much more energy than the fans!

Despite the heat, our little Dire Dawa running club (consisting of Mark, Kaja and me) decided to meet up at the stadium around 6:30, hoping that sunset would bring some relief to the heat. Now running laps around a track in 30+ weather might seem like a strange activity for someone who can’t sit in an office without a fan, but to counter all the jumbos we’ve been consuming since my return, it’s intended to keep me at least a little in shape. Kaja and I are also in agreement that it’s important for our metal health, even if it is a struggle to change into running gear and lace up the shoes every second night (in theory) – especially on the really hot (and humid) days.

Monday just happened to be one of those days where you feel like you need to shower a few times to cool down. Around 4 pm Kaja had slipped home for a shower. Later, she commented that she hoped we’d still have water later. I said, “especially” if we’re going to run!” We’ve been having trouble with the water tank at the office and also the pump, so hand-washing with done with water from a bucket and a little jug to pour the water over your hands. It’s not terrible, until you have to scoop a worm out of the bucket first. But I suppose the water we have in the taps is probably no better than whatever water the guards are fetching for the hand wash station.

After a painful 10 laps around the stadium in the twilight, Kaja and I agreed to meet Mark in a half hour for street-dinner and went back to the guesthouse to shower. Guessing what happens next isn’t hard. No water. Somehow a bucket shower just isn’t as refreshing as standing under a constant stream of water, even if the water does seem obnoxiously cold. We were both “showered” and ready in now time. My first (and luckily so far, on Friday afternoon) only bucket shower so far.