Boris.

Boris is a great friend of mine.   I would even go so far as to say I've fallen in love with him.  He didn't like me too much when I first arrived but like every man the love developed when I started to fill his stomach.  At first he was not living at my house, another volunteer having ‘taken him on’ but now that volunteer has left, Boris spends almost all his time at mine.  Occasionally he goes to Hananas across the road and sometimes he makes his way to Helens (his last permanent abode).  Here’s a few pictures of the infamous Boris…

Being of the canine male variety, Boris is a roamer… unfortunately roaming got him into some unpleasant difficulties ‘down there’.  He was ‘spreading his seed’ a little too liberally shall we say and got himself an infection which left him dripping green gunk from his penis… maybe I’ll leave the description there. It was at this point his custodian at the time decided he needed to undergo ‘the snip’ to curb his overactive desires to roam and, well… shag incessantly.  The Back Street ‘Vet’ unfortunately wasn’t so caring and did the procedure without any anaesthetic. Most Ghanaians don’t understand the western ways of ‘loving’ pets like they are humans… a lot of Ghanaians (in the north at least) eat dog (and cat), hence their existence is purely functional. Poor Boris had balls the size of bulls balls just a few hours after the op that grew to an even more ridiculous size rendering him unable to sit comfortably and put him off his food totally (so unusual).  When he came to visit us at our house a couple of days after the op we suggested he go back to the vets and get a course of antibiotics, the Back Street ‘Vet’ didn’t see the need, insisting ‘they will go down, they will go down’.  Luckily Boris’s custodian insisted and even managed to add a bit of blue antiseptic spray for good measure. 

He’s now fully recovered… I say fully; the experience has rendered him in possession of puppy like antics.  He chases me down the road whist I’m are riding the moto and tries to grab my trouser leg and pull me off. If it’s not too hot, he’ll even follow me to the main road, too scary for words....  Often on a walk, he walks down the road following me and out of nowhere gives a little nip on my arse or leg (leaving me bruised I hasten to add). 

He now goes mad for sticks (retrieving and returning them but not letting them go); a canny two stick system keeps the stick throwing flowing though.  Don’t even think about having anything in your hand… he will decide he wants to play with it, be it a purse, rubber glove or black plastic rubber [bag].  Even his hatred of black men has diminished, loving being petted by… well, practically anyone.  The consequence of this is of course I am now unable to be sure his title of ‘Night Watchman’ can be maintained, he’ll probably let anyone into the compound!  It doesn’t however stop Ghanaians being afraid of him, funny that most Ghanaians are really quite afraid of dogs.

I have strong feelings about volunteers having pets on their placement.  I don’t think they should (although after my recent mouse in the house infestation I was seriously considering getting a cat).  Why?  A dog is for life not just for two years.  They get attached.  You get attached. Boris won’t leave my house not because of me, (although I’d like to think it is) but because of the positive experience he has had there with the vols that have looked after him. When I came back from the Christmas break he nearly knocked me over with excitement.  So why have I ‘taken him on’ then?  I don’t have a choice (plus I secretly love it); its Boris’s house as much as mine, he knows it and he’s not a true street dog, he enjoys the loving too much.  Who could just leave him to the street (and possible plate)?  Boris follows me like a sheep, knows his name, and comes when called.  He doesn’t need a leash; if he had one I am sure he would find a way out of it for Boris has never totally lost his roaming nature and, every so often he won’t come when called; just looks back at me giving ‘A littlest Hobo’ style look as if to say, "I have to go now, but I’ll be back"… and he always does, after ’helping people in need’ like the littlest Hobo rather than… well, the alternative.  His now lack of infection in my head is proof I am right in my theory of what he gets up to! This will be a tough relationship to sever when I am the one saying "I have to go now…" but I just couldn’t stop this relationship from developing…