The foster experiment

Back in the fall of 2010, dh and I had been contemplating a move to a property that was more country than suburb.  We were even getting our house ready to sell.  One of the things that the kids wanted to do when we got to the country was get a playmate for Bruin, the family dog.  Bruin is a very social dog.  He used to have regular play dates and spent off leash time with buddies most mornings when I walked the kids to school.  Dh and I tentatively agreed that with more space to run we would consider the idea.

By Christmas 2010 we were pretty sure that we were coming to South Africa so a second dog wasn't going to be in the cards.  When we found out how much it cost to move one dog half way around the world we knew there was no way we would be getting another dog.  So, I told the kids that I would consider fostering a dog in South Africa. 

Bruin arrived in South Africa with no adverse affects.  He loves the larger property. The water retriever instincts of the poodle and golden retriever mean that the pool is his favourite place to be.

Here in PE there are no leash free parks for dogs to play at.  Most families have more than one dog for socialisation so there really isn't a need.  There are dogs next door, but Bruin can't really play through a fence.  He was lonely.

We didn't realise how lonely until we had a friend (with a border collie) stay at our place to take care of him while we travelled home for Christmas.  When we got back poor Bruin was in mourning for weeks.  He was constantly looking for his buddy, Phinn. 

It was time for me to start looking at the possibility of fostering a dog.  One of the things that never occurred to me before we moved was the stray pet population. It is huge. On a daily basis we see strays, or dogs with the pan handlers on the street corners. Sometimes the pan handlers have little pups with them and use them as a tool to gain sympathy from drivers hoping for more money. These strays or "pets" aren't spayed or neutered and the problem just keeps getting worse.  I knew there were lots of strays for adoption, but searching on the Internet and asking around gave me no leads on fostering. 

We were taking a trip to Cape Town and when I took Bruin in to the kennel I mentioned to the staff what a difficult time I was having finding information about fostering.  She told me that the kennel actually had several dogs that they kept for the local Animal Anti Cruelty League.  She said she would find out about fostering and said she had the perfect dog for us. 

After dropping Bruin in his run, she introduced us to Boebie.  She was a 2 1/2 year old Boerboel cross and she was beautiful.  The kids immediately took a liking to her, she was friendly and energetic, a little bit shy, but she'd been at the kennel for about a year.  The staff told us that she had a history of intolerance for other female dogs, but she shared a kennel with a male dog and seemed fine with males.

This is Boebie.

Since Bruin is such a well socialised dog and has never shown any aggressive or dominant tendencies, we thought that he would be the perfect companion for Boebie.  I suggested that the two be introduced while they were both at the kennel.

The kids were so excited all weekend in Cape Town.  I read up on fostering, shelter dogs and what to expect while we were driving.  I also read up on the Boerboel, an African breed.  We came up with the name Chloe for when she came to our home. 

I found out that all that was required was a home visit to ensure that our property was safe and suitable to foster.  A couple of weeks later we had our home assessed by M, an animal behaviourist, who was in charge of placement. M and I had both been told that the introduction between the dogs had gone well at the kennel and M was immediately approving of not only our home, but my experience in training Bruin.  She was impressed with how "balanced" a dog Bruin was.  So, a few days later I went to pick up Chloe.

We had both the dogs on leash at the second introduction in the driveway of the house and Bruin was his normal nosey friendly self, but Chloe took immediate offence and dislike to him.  Things didn't improve in the first few hours, so I called M and she came by as quickly as she could to assess the situation.  We walked the dogs side by side and they were fine and then Chloe would, seemingly out of the blue lunge at Bruin, teeth bared, and growling.  She got close enough once that first day to take a chunk of hair out of Bruin's side, missing the skin thank goodness.  Bruin didn't know what to think.  Given his lack of dominance he backed right off and never even attempted to fight back.



Chloe was a loving and beautiful dog with the children and with dh and I.  She was terrific on leash.  She took to the crate easily. In every way she was a great dog, except with with Bruin.

With dh and I both at home in the evenings one could manage the children and one the dogs.  We really wanted to provide a home for Chloe and kept trying.  During the day the kids were at school I could manage Bruin verbally and Chloe was constantly on leash.  On day 5, dh was out on a business dinner and I had to manage on my own with the children and the dogs.  That was when I knew it wasn't going to work. 

Bruin was becoming fearful with each unpredictable lunge from Chloe and he was becoming tentative to approach me even when I didn't have Chloe. I was scheduled to go to Cub Scout camp the coming weekend and dh and I knew that he could never manage 2 kids and both dogs at the same time.  We agreed it was time to call an end to the experiment and with a heavy heart I reluctantly returned Chloe back to the kennel.  The kids came with me and they were sad, but they also knew that no one was happy in the situation.  They saw how much being with Chloe kept me from spending time with them and they were more relieved than sad in the end.

M and I kept in contact and though our experience with Chloe didn't turn out like we had hoped, dh and I hadn't given up on the idea.  It was going to be done differently though.  I told M that due to other commitments it would be a couple of weeks before we could even consider trying with another dog.  She told us of a wag walk that was being held a few weeks later.  It was a fundraiser for the AACL and would provide an opportunity for us to bring Bruin and introduce him to many of the AACL dogs.  M had decided that Abby, who was on a foster farm was the perfect match for us. 

Abby was a pavement special.  11 months old.  Her mother had been picked up and Abby was born in a cage in the middle of the night at the shelter. Abby was kept at the shelter until she was weaned and then she and her brothers were sent to a large farm that they use as a foster facility.  The farm has upwards of 150 dogs on site.  Abby's health was in question and they were concerned about her eyes as they were very red and teary.

The day of the wag walk we put the whole family, including Bruin into the car, and took an extra leash just in case we needed it to bring Abby, or another suitable dog home.

We introduced Abby and Bruin and it didn't go badly, but I wasn't really convinced.  Abby was shy and uncertain, she had never been on a leash before (or worn a collar for that matter) and she fought it many times.  After a brief 2 km walk she was exhausted, lay down and wouldn't budge.  She was thin and her eyes looked terrible.  I was very concerned that she would not be a good match for an active dog like Bruin and expressed my concern to M and the other staff from AACL.  They all felt that the stress of the situation was causing Abby's behaviour and that if we were willing to take her and make sure that her eyes were attended to, that even a short term placement would be beneficial to her health. 

We stayed for a long while at the wag walk.  The kids were totally taken with most of the animals.  We saw Chloe/Boebie there too.  She was just as unpredictable and aggressive on that morning as she had been at our home.  It confirmed that we had made the right decision.  After a good long rest Abby got up.  She took a few treats from my hand and climbed into M's lap for a snuggle and that's what made up my mind.  She looked just as happy and content in M's lap as Bruin does in mine.

It was decided, we were taking her home.  We walked out with Abby on her new collar and leash and the minute we got to the road and a car drove by she bolted back to the rest of the shelter dogs.    I ran after her and carried her back to the car, she was shaking.  She lay down immediately on the floor and Bruin stood, I like to think protectively, over her. 

When we got Abby home we left them both on leash, but there was no need.  Bruin tried to play, but Abby wasn't interested so he left her alone and she hid in the bushes.  She was shy around the children, they moved kind of erratically for her and she wasn't too sure.  In fact she wasn't sure about anything, I had never seen an 11 month old puppy acting less like a puppy. 

It's been two weeks now since we brought Abby home.  She's still Abby, we didn't change her name because she really is an Abby.  She is approaching the children and enjoying calm pats.  If they move too quickly she still shies away, but it's getting better every day.  She is playing with some of the dog toys and short walks don't exhaust her anymore.    She's been know to grab the occasional sock or shoe.  Her eyes have improved dramatically, but too much sun makes them red again.  Most importantly we're starting to see more of her personality and less of her anxiety. 

Oh and the thing that I was most worried about, well here's how that turned out.

Birdies Part 2

When we moved here it was April, the beginning of fall.  There were 2 abandoned nests, from some bird or other, falling apart on the walls above both the front and back patios. 
Given that the house had been empty for so long we weren't sure if they would be back in the summer, but we were hopeful. 

Flash forward 5 months to September.  I'm out in the braai and a small bird flies right under the balcony and hovers for a fraction of a second then flies away again. A few minutes later the same thing.  I was so excited that I grabbed my phone for a quick video.

It went on like this for weeks.  Birds, we thought 4 of them, would do a low fly in, hover in various spots under the balcony and fly off again. I set up my camera trying to get a good shot so I could identify what kind of bird they were. 

Not a great shot, but we were able to identify them as lesser striped swallows. 

After about 3 weeks we found this on the wall.

Just a few splotches of something and some peck marks that were the same shape as the nests we had seen when we moved in.  It was like they had drawn a blueprint on the wall.  Cool.

After weeks of flying and hovering they had started building.  They were partially through the first nest and it was accidentally knocked off by a worker.  They started again in the exact same spot.  That one fell down too.  They started a third time but moved the nest over about 10cm.  It took about 1 1/2 weeks to finish.

It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen.  They would fly up with their mouths so full of mud that they couldn't even close their beaks.  They must have had it all the way down to their gullet because when they started to cough it up onto the nest I couldn't believe how much was in there.  Here is a photo of them in the building process.

I won't bore you with all the photos, I took several every day to document their progress :)  This was the final product.

You can see, to the bottom left, the mud stains from the first two tries.  I found it so interesting that the mud is in different shades.  Obviously from different locations. It made me wonder was the darker mud more like clay so the base of the nest is more sturdy?  I have no idea, but I makes me appreciate mother nature even more than I ever did.

Just before we left for Canada we thought that the eggs must have been laid.  We were sad that we would miss the hatching, but looked forward to coming back to PE to see the little swallows.

Sure enough when we came back there were 4 little ones already fledged and flying around.  Here are 3 of them are perched on our back door.

Not long after we got home I opened up the accordion doors to the back yard.  It really opens up the whole back wall of the lounge area to the outside.  Well the poor little baby swallows over shot the nest, got confused and did a bit of a tour of the house.  The kids were squealing and one poor little swallow couldn't figure out how to get itself out.  It was exhausted from flying at the window so I had to help it by scooping it up on a soft broom and lifting it out the window above.  What an adventure for the kids.

I had wondered how many eggs a swallow would lay and I had assumed 4 until a week or so ago.  I guess they had been running out of space in the nest for the 6 of them because I found a dead hatchling at the backdoor.  It obviously didn't survive very long from the looks of it's tiny featherless body.  So this pair laid 5 eggs and 4 survived. 

It is March now and we haven't seen the swallows for a few days, so maybe they have started their migration North. 

I look forward to watching it all unfold again next year and hopefully we'll be around to hear and see the chicks when they first hatch.

The paper boy

Are there people in your life that have had a lasting impression?  People who have passed through your life and enhanced it in some way you'll never forget.
There are in mine. 

I met one of them here in PE.

When we came to South Africa it became readily apparent that the unemployment rates, that we had been told about, were not an exaggeration.  The entrepreneurial spirit of this country amazes me.  At virtually every robot (traffic light) someone is selling something.  From USB sticks and sunglasses, to garbage bags and hand made tin watering cans, people are out there trying to earn a living.  Some just ask for money, but many of them try to sell something to make a buck.

It gives new meaning to the phrase drive through when you see a table with carafes of coffee at the side of the road and someone weaving in an out of traffic selling coffee and biscuits.  It's ingenious.  Totally dangerous, but ingenious.

With all the warnings I had been given about crime in this country I was leery to open my window,  while sitting at a stop light, when we first got here. I couldn't sit an pretend these people aren't there or look through them, so I would look at them, shake my head and mouth "No, thank you."

Every morning on my commute to the school we would pass the paper boy.  He walked among the cars selling Die Burger, the Afrikaans newspaper and The Herald, the English paper. I never wanted a paper, I got most of my news from the MWeb news app on my phone. 

Every once and a while I would see someone roll down their window to buy a paper.  There was one man in a blue compact car who never bought a paper but he would have a chat through his open window. 

Over time the paper boy got to recognise our car.  He would smile and wave and I couldn't help but smile and wave back.  For a month or so it was our routine.  Every morning he would smile and wave and I would smile and wave back from behind my window.  It was a great way to start a day with his enormous smile.  Rain or shine he was out there smiling with his newspapers.

One day I decided to roll down my window, just 1/2 way.  "Good morning Ma'am" he said to me.  "Good morning." I said back.  A few days later I asked him how much The Herald cost.  He told me R5.  I said to him "Well then, every Friday morning I will buy a paper from you".  So, that Friday I rolled down the window, all the way, and bought my first paper from him.  I handed him a R10 note and as he reached for change I told him that the extra R5 was for his brilliant smile.  I didn't think his smile could get any bigger, but it did as he said "Thank you Ma'am".

It went on like this for weeks.  Mon - Thurs I would roll down my window to say good morning.  Some mornings he would say in a thick accent "Nice weather" or "Rainy day today Ma'am".  On Friday's I would give him R10 for a paper and a smile.  Some mornings (never a Friday) he would be restocking at the nearby Spar market and I would drive through without talking to him.  Without fail the next day he would say "I missed you yesterday Ma'am"

I once asked him what he did after he sold his papers, if he had another job.  He said, "No job Ma'am, I just go home and sit all day."

One week we were scheduled to go to Cape Town, so I told him on Monday that I would need my paper on Thursday that week.  He was ready with my paper Thursday when I stopped at the light and he wished me a good trip. 

When we returned from Cape Town he asked about our trip.  I told him Cape Town was a beautiful city and we enjoyed it very much.  Then, as the light changed to green and I started to move away he said he was going to Durban.

I was running late the next day and didn't have time to say hi or ask about Durban. The next day he wasn't there.

It's been 4 weeks now since I've seen him.  He must have moved on to Durban for good. Regardless of the morning I was having, whether I was tired or rushed,  grumpy or happy he was always there with a smile.  He never failed to lift my spirits and start my day off on a positive note.

I am glad I gave him the extra money for his smile.  It wasn't enough to keep him in PE, but I hope it was enough to let him know how much I appreciated it.  His smile encouraged me to open my window and talk to him.  It motivated me to buy a paper from him and gave me something to look forward to on my morning commute. 

He was a complete stranger to me. I never got around to asking his name.  Still, I will never forget him and I will never underestimate the power of a simple smile.

The view from my balcony

We returned to South Africa from a month long visit back home.  It was fantastic to see family and friends.  It was also interesting to hear some of the questions that they asked and some of their preconceived notions about this country that we currently call home. 

I found myself in a very strange position.  Here in South Africa I am constantly disabusing people about the stereotypical information that they have heard about Canada. What I found myself doing while I was home, was educating my Canadian friends and family on what South Africa is really like.

Some of the comments and questions didn't surprise me.  Yes, we have McDonald's.  No, we don't live in a mud hut.  Yes, we have electricity (most of the time). No, not everyone does.  Yes, we have chocolate.  No, we don't have chocolate chips.

Some of our friends thought that wildlife like lions and leopards roamed freely thorough the country and posed a threat to us.  I know that out in the wilderness or farming communties you'll hear of the odd leopard or two that have been spotted, or are making problems by killing livestock, but it doesn't happen in the cities.

When I explained this to a Scouter friend of mine here in PE he said, "Well, it's our own fault.  That's what we advertise about our country.  Every brochure about visiting South Africa has a safari animal on it".  He also said "That's how South Africa markets itself, so that's what people all over the world assume."  He's absolutely right.

The questions that bothered me the most were the other comments about safety.  It's not something that I've spoken to in my blog and wasn't sure that it was something that I should, but there were just too many comments that really caused me to feel defensive about my new home.  The 2 most concerning were "Are there armed guards patrolling the perimitter of your compound?" and "What kind of gun do you have?"

This is the view from my balcony.  This is what I see when I go up in the morning with my cup of coffee. It is my reality.  I sit quietly.  Sometimes the dog joins me.  I watch to see what flies by or lands on my bird feeders.  I see the city in the distance, just a blur really.  Sometimes I take up my laptop and write my blog from up there.  I love that view.  I love the sense of tranquility and peace it brings me.   I am struck every day by the sheer beauty of this country and feel blessed for this opportunity.

If I shift my point of view just a little bit, this is what I see and it too is my reality.

There are two fences.  One to keep the dog in and an electrified one to keep criminals out. 

Homes have a security systems with panic buttons in every room. In Canada we have screens on our windows to keep the bugs out, here they have burgler bars to keep the criminals out.  In Canada where people have one or two dogs for companionship, families here will have 3, 4 or more for protection.  Sometimes they are German Shepards, Boerboels or Bull Mastiffs, true guard dogs. More often than not they are border collies, Jack Russels or shelter dogs because loud and barky is just as much of a deterent.  Where schools in Canada have closed circuit televisions and controlled entry locks on doors, schools here have security company vehicles patrolling the grounds or guards at an external gate.    

I know a woman who walked in on a thief at home and was held at gunpoint while the thief escaped at the age of 14.  That same woman was a victim of a theft while at university age and her neighbour's car was stolen out of thier driveway when she was an adult.  You might think this woman is South African. It was me. All those things and others happened to me in Canada.  I have met friends here in Port Elizabeth whose families have never been touched directly by crime in all thier lives in South Africa. 

Are there more risks to living in South Africa than in Canada?  No doubt about it.   Are crimes in South Africa more violent than those in Canada?  Yes, from what I've read.  Do I live as a privledged member of this society who can avoid crime? Some might say yes, but others may say that affluence makes me more of a target.  Are there certain areas that I would never go at night? Yup, but there were areas like that in Toronto when I lived there.  Crime can find you anywhere and I know that first hand.  

Townships are where you hear that crime happens the most.  So, was I nervous the other weekend when my GPS sent my friend and I through a township because the main road was blocked?  Sure, but what I saw were children playing, women hanging out thier laundry and people returning home with shopping bags.  People going through life.  Just like the last time I was in a township.

Living here is much like the view from my balcony. It all comes down to perspective.

You can focus on the fence.  See South Africa as a scary place, full of risk.  You can choose never to come here.  You can choose to come here and look at the country from safely behind your electrified fence, never venturing out unless you have to.

Me, I prefer to look past the fence.  I want to see this country in all it's glory (or not).  I want to meet the people who call it home.  I want my children to truly understand how people live in other countries.  I want them to acknowlege any barriers that they face and move beyond them.  I want to be a participant and not an observer.

So, no I do not live on a compound.  No, I do not own a gun.  What do I do? I pay attention and stay alert the same as I did in Canada or anywhere in the world that I have ever visited.  If you don't believe me, then please, come for a visit, and allow me the privledge of showing off this stunning and complex country that I currently call home.