He was a stray before we met.
It was at an animal haven.
We had not had a pet for some years
and for whatever reason
had decided perhaps it was time again.
On a visit to the city
we followed the whim
and found ourselves
strolling between cages
of deserted dogs -
large and small,
barking and silent,
confronting and withdrawn …
And then
there was "Bwana",
establishing eye contact,
standing up at the gate
on his hind legs,
barking invitingly …
"Take me! Take me please!
I'm the one you want."
We went for a walk together,
bonding immediately.
Yes, he was the one,
but there were formalities to be fixed,
dog requisites to be bought,
a home prepared.
Unwillingly he returned to his cage,
with words of reassurance from us
that we had decided
and would return.
Next day
we took him back with us
to the country town where we lived.
We had been briefed that
our new dog was believed
to be partly Basenji
and might be a bit demanding -
a fencer and a wanderer.
In recognition of his genetics
and personality
we named him "Bwana" -
Swahili for "Master" -
and so it was
and has been
for a doggy lifetime
since.
We are all older now …
nearly time for parting.
Bwana sleeps most of the time
except for his insistence
on regular morning and afternoon walks,
albeit much shorter
than they used to be.
But the time will come.
We will all know when.
I'll take him to the vet
and hold him close
while he goes to sleep
for the last time -
hoping that my own ending
might be as easy
and surrounded
with such love.
But then …
I am human …
not a dog …
no one's pet.
