Before I really came to terms with Manao's animal status, she would sleep in my bedroom. She always slept under my bed, but I gave her the luxury of sleeping in a sometimes air-conditioned, but always fan- cooled, room. One night while I was brushing my teeth, I came back to my bedroom to find this:
The two of us have since had our fair share of traumatic experiences. First there are the street dogs. Every morning on our run we are attacked by a pack of barking, growling and teeth- baring mongrels. We try to sneak by along the outside of the path and go unnoticed, but we are often unsuccessful, and are confronted with these cuties. Seriously, it is really, really scary.
We have also had two tick incidents. Despite my obsessive anti- tick medicine application, the use of a tick collar and various other techniques, Manao's fur has become infested with ticks on two occasions. Here is a picture from when I shaved her, and took matters into my own hands. Luckily, we have been tick free since this photo.
Every morning I wake up at 5:10 to take Manao on a run around the lake before work. This morning was no different. She ate breakfast, I laced up my running shoes, put on her leash, and we were off. As we were about fifteen minutes from the end of our run, a pigeon flew out of a tree next to the trail. Before I could comprehend the situation, Manao had the pigeon in her mouth. She had leapt into the air and grabbed the pigeon mid flight. She had only caught it's wing, so she maneuvered the pigeon in her mouth, and sunk her teeth directly into it's chest. I screamed bloody murder. I dropped the leash, covered my mouth and continued to scream. I tried to tell her to drop it, and to stop, but I knew it was too late. By the time she dropped the pigeon on the side of the path, it was long gone. I grabbed her leash again, and yanked her away from her prey. Boy, was she proud. She thought I would be proud too! It was clear the way she held her head and pranced along, she knew she had done a good thing. I just ran, unable to come to terms with the fact that my dog is a killer. The man sitting at his stall along the path had heard it all, and just chuckled as I tried to tell and mime to him what had just occurred.
I brought Manao home, the end of our run being a complete blur. I dropped her off and went for my second loop, camera in hand. This is what my adorable, golden retriever is guilty of:
Shocking. Absolutely shocking. And disgusting!
But this is what I came home to. She is just so darn proud. Come on, it just doesn't add up!