Every day since I arrived in my village I had to have a weapon in my hand ready to fight. Only a quarter mile from my house lived the nastiest, ugliest, racist dog in Africa. This dog hated freedom and apparently white/Japanese people. I was told by a local Japanese volunteer that he was bit by the dog and had to go to the hospital.
I would watch as he would let dozens of local school children go by without a thought but as soon as he saw me come down the road he would totally lose it. He would bark and sprint towards me snapping his jaws. So I would grab the nearest stick or rock and challenge the dog to a “Queensbury Rules” boxing match. For some reason, the locals would stand around and laugh they loved seeing me try to fight a dog.
For months I came up with revenge plans. Would I be a bad Peace Corps volunteer if I duck taped a dog’s jaws shut and killed him while he was sleeping? Well yes probably.
I would imagine what 7th grade karate moves I would use on him if he ever really bit me. This dog made me hate all other dogs. He had me looking at all animals in a different light. I would stare down goats and donkeys with contempt.
Several weeks ago when my girlfriend was in town I prepared her for the worst. I told her to kick gravel at the dog, to yell loudly to scare it, and then it is stick waving time. As we drew near the dog’s home (or reverse 1960’s Alabama as I like to call it)… nothing. Kind of a letdown really, I was excited to show her my stick/lightsaber moves.
Day after day I was ready for battle and nothing happened. Neighbors and onlookers would look at me funny as I picked up large rocks and sticks and then disappointingly throw them down after I was not attacked. So as of 4/2/12 I am calling off the search and considering the demon dog dead. Maybe the demon dog just wants me to believe he is dead and he is plotting an elaborate scheme to end me BUT if not….
RIP you son of a bitch,