Dogs!

Levi puts his paws up on the small bantaba where Neene and I are sitting. I scratch his head. Neene shouts, “Levi! Get down from there or I’ll beat you till you poop!” I push Levi down. He attempts to return, but Neene reminds him of the consequences. He stalks off without a backward glance, pushes open the door to my house and walks in. The door swings shut behind him.


I tell Neene that Levi is angry. She exclaims that he heard what she said! I mention the girl who the day before yesterday asked if Levi heard English and then told me her dog understands French. Then I tell her about the dog I saw on T.V. in America that will sit with a biscuit on his nose until the owner tells him to chew and then the dog will toss the biscuit in the air and catch it.


Neene sounded impressed, and told me about a dog in the Senegal market. The owner will write a letter and put it in a bag with money and tie the bag around the dog’s neck. Then he will tell the dog to go to the market and buy meat. And the dog will go until he gets to the person selling the meat and then he will just stand. And the person will untie the bag and read the letter to see if he is buying one kilo, or two, or a kilo and a half. Then he will put the meat in a bag and tie it around the dog’s neck. And the dog will walk home. Won’t the dog eat the meat? No. Even if someone asks, “What do you have there?” the dog will not stop.


My story of the biscuit-eating dog suddenly sounded lame.