Johan had grown up tough. The streets of Jo’burg were not easy for a small boy who wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box and the absence of a hard drinking father who was either working nightshift on the gold mines or drunk when home didn’t exactly provide the best role model. It surprised everyone when he volunteered to join the police after leaving school. He surprised even himself when he found himself thriving in the challenge of basic training where he wasn’t expected to think too much. The blind obedience and the monotonous but ordered way of life appealing to his sense of wanting to belong, to be a part of something and to contribute in his own small way to society. The newfound discipline helped provide direction in a life that had until recently been floundering with no guidance and which held no future other than the drudgery of shift work on the mines, or alternately being a car-guard at one of the numerous shopping malls that have sprung up in all the more affluent suburbs, followed by the inevitable alcoholism which unfortunately ran in his blood. Eventually he knew the gutter was his destiny.
He admired the dog-handlers, and when offered the opportunity to undergo the stringent selection course to become a “doggy”, nothing other than sheer stubbornness and the realization that this was his golden ticket to a better life helped him survive the four month patrol dog course. As part of the bonding process he slept, ate, and worked with his dog, cuddled up to her at night for warmth in the bitterly cold highveld winter, he cleaned and groomed her, cleaned her stools when necessary, and quickly a bond was formed with her as was intended by this sometimes brutally hard curriculum and even tougher instructors; to the stage where he was sure he could communicate telepathically with his dog. Man and dog had become a team as was intended by the instructors. This age old comradeship between man and canine was forged millenniums ago and simmers beneath the surface of our civilized veneer just waiting to be rediscovered. What a pity this simple pleasure is denied so many townies nowadays, boys whose lives would be incalculably enriched if their parents would only relent and allow them the pleasure of discovering the wonderful smell of a puppy’s breath. To expose them to the unbridled and unequivocal love that dogs show their owners not to mention the benefits of teaching them the responsibility and sometimes the difficulties of caring for someone close to your heart. I use the term “someone” because a dog becomes a true friend to a little boy and cannot be described as an animal or a pet, the relationship transcends that.
Because of his training he was able to find employment as a K9 handler doing explosive detection work in the International Zone in central Baghdad, Iraq. This was after he had become disillusioned with the corruption and nepotism within the Police force. The fact that Johan did not speak an indigenous language and in fact only barely understood and could only communicate in rudimentary English further hampered any chances of promotion. The fact that incompetent and untrained people with little experience were being promoted to adjust the racial quota of the force with no regard to the consequence and the loss of experience and resultant diminishing of the morale which made a mockery of the law in his country made his decision to leave the force all the more easy. Of course the salary helped, and for the first time he was able to properly take care of his young family who up to now had lived on a pitiful sum that after tax and other costs had afforded them a life marginally above the poverty line.
Johan found the work in Iraq to his liking; he quickly adjusted to and found a new friend in the Malinua assigned to him. A Malinua is a skinny version of the German Shepard which is much better suited to the temperatures encountered in Iraq which consistently exceed 55C in the summer months. Incredibly hot days that have to be experienced to be believed and can best be described as standing in front of an open blast furnace, days where the soles melt off your shoes if they are not stitched to the uppers and where the human body has to drink at least eight liters of water a day to survive. Johan’s work consisted of searching up to 1000 vehicles a day as well as any number of rooms in the International Conference Centre where the new democracy in Iraq was laboriously being debated and hammered out amongst much resistance from the various sects who had been squabbling for the past 7000 years in Mesopotamia. Disputes which the new Super Powers arrogantly assumed they could resolve by foistering a western form of democracy on these people. I caused the ire of the Minister of the Interior of the Interim Government over lunch one day when I innocently enquired if he thought their constitution, which had been much delayed because of constant debate, would be passed. His response certainly gave me pause for thought: He quietly and in an extremely dignified manner enlightened me to the fact that his ancestors resided in the cradle of civilization and that in fact their constitution was all of 6000 years old. This ideology had in fact been adopted by other earlier civilizations, found its way to the Greeks and the Romans and from there meandered via colonization to the New Countries, of which the richest and strongest was now presuming to teach the originators how to suck eggs while pretending to be concerned about security in the Middle East.
Ramadan always causes a religious fervor, and the month of October, the Holiest month, brings fear to the infidels who know that the zealots are prepared to die in their efforts to bring death to those that worship the New Testament God. They are not afraid to die in their endeavors and in so doing hope to enter their interpretation of paradise. Incidentally if our religious leaders offered all the attendant fringe benefits these people are promised I am sure we would revisit our tactics as well – imagine forty virgins singing your praises whilst anointing your body with scented oils; popping figs, dates and exotic fruits into your mouth – very tempting indeed…. Last year this took the form of continuous flurries of rockets and mortars, as many as 50 attacks a day were launched against the euphemistically called Green Zone. You could be forgiven for wondering if there weren’t two Gods fighting for possession of the souls of the world. Guardian Angels abounded and the number of close scrapes and lucky escapes defies rational explanation. In years gone by people fired round bullets at Christians and square ones at heathens – I wonder if old man Hiram Maxim, the inventor of the machine-gun knew something we don’t.
It was four in the afternoon and Johan was quietly walking his dog behind the Interim Iraqi Government building when he noticed a wildly gesticulating Gurkha shouting at him. I should mention that Johan was slightly deaf as a result of an unnecessarily hefty cuff to the ear from his drunken father. Huh!!! Asked Johan in typical fashion. The Gurkha started jumping up and down and shouting really loudly at Johan while all the while waiving his arms above his head. ‘Huh!!! What does yous want? ” Johan shouted back in his Afrikaans accent; by this time the dog had squatted to take a leak in the typical undignified arched back method used by young dogs before they learn to lift their hind legs. The Gurkha, now joined by his buddy, shouted even harder, gesticulated and pointed even more vigorously after which even their legendary courage broke and they sprinted for the nearest bunker, diving in from both ends of the concrete shelter. They had not even touched ground when a rocket pegged itself quivering into the ground a mere six paces away from where Johan and the still peeing dog were standing – without detonating!!!!!!!!
Johan promptly joined his canine and pissed himself as well.
There is a sad addendum to this story, Johan returned home after spending an unsuccessful three months desperately attempting to learn rudimentary Gurkhali; vowing never to misunderstand a shouted warning ever again. As is so often the case with people who have new-found wealth he went out and bought a new car. The car was not even a week old when he was involved in an accident and both Johan and his young son were tragically killed.
Anon.
He admired the dog-handlers, and when offered the opportunity to undergo the stringent selection course to become a “doggy”, nothing other than sheer stubbornness and the realization that this was his golden ticket to a better life helped him survive the four month patrol dog course. As part of the bonding process he slept, ate, and worked with his dog, cuddled up to her at night for warmth in the bitterly cold highveld winter, he cleaned and groomed her, cleaned her stools when necessary, and quickly a bond was formed with her as was intended by this sometimes brutally hard curriculum and even tougher instructors; to the stage where he was sure he could communicate telepathically with his dog. Man and dog had become a team as was intended by the instructors. This age old comradeship between man and canine was forged millenniums ago and simmers beneath the surface of our civilized veneer just waiting to be rediscovered. What a pity this simple pleasure is denied so many townies nowadays, boys whose lives would be incalculably enriched if their parents would only relent and allow them the pleasure of discovering the wonderful smell of a puppy’s breath. To expose them to the unbridled and unequivocal love that dogs show their owners not to mention the benefits of teaching them the responsibility and sometimes the difficulties of caring for someone close to your heart. I use the term “someone” because a dog becomes a true friend to a little boy and cannot be described as an animal or a pet, the relationship transcends that.
Because of his training he was able to find employment as a K9 handler doing explosive detection work in the International Zone in central Baghdad, Iraq. This was after he had become disillusioned with the corruption and nepotism within the Police force. The fact that Johan did not speak an indigenous language and in fact only barely understood and could only communicate in rudimentary English further hampered any chances of promotion. The fact that incompetent and untrained people with little experience were being promoted to adjust the racial quota of the force with no regard to the consequence and the loss of experience and resultant diminishing of the morale which made a mockery of the law in his country made his decision to leave the force all the more easy. Of course the salary helped, and for the first time he was able to properly take care of his young family who up to now had lived on a pitiful sum that after tax and other costs had afforded them a life marginally above the poverty line.
Johan found the work in Iraq to his liking; he quickly adjusted to and found a new friend in the Malinua assigned to him. A Malinua is a skinny version of the German Shepard which is much better suited to the temperatures encountered in Iraq which consistently exceed 55C in the summer months. Incredibly hot days that have to be experienced to be believed and can best be described as standing in front of an open blast furnace, days where the soles melt off your shoes if they are not stitched to the uppers and where the human body has to drink at least eight liters of water a day to survive. Johan’s work consisted of searching up to 1000 vehicles a day as well as any number of rooms in the International Conference Centre where the new democracy in Iraq was laboriously being debated and hammered out amongst much resistance from the various sects who had been squabbling for the past 7000 years in Mesopotamia. Disputes which the new Super Powers arrogantly assumed they could resolve by foistering a western form of democracy on these people. I caused the ire of the Minister of the Interior of the Interim Government over lunch one day when I innocently enquired if he thought their constitution, which had been much delayed because of constant debate, would be passed. His response certainly gave me pause for thought: He quietly and in an extremely dignified manner enlightened me to the fact that his ancestors resided in the cradle of civilization and that in fact their constitution was all of 6000 years old. This ideology had in fact been adopted by other earlier civilizations, found its way to the Greeks and the Romans and from there meandered via colonization to the New Countries, of which the richest and strongest was now presuming to teach the originators how to suck eggs while pretending to be concerned about security in the Middle East.
Ramadan always causes a religious fervor, and the month of October, the Holiest month, brings fear to the infidels who know that the zealots are prepared to die in their efforts to bring death to those that worship the New Testament God. They are not afraid to die in their endeavors and in so doing hope to enter their interpretation of paradise. Incidentally if our religious leaders offered all the attendant fringe benefits these people are promised I am sure we would revisit our tactics as well – imagine forty virgins singing your praises whilst anointing your body with scented oils; popping figs, dates and exotic fruits into your mouth – very tempting indeed…. Last year this took the form of continuous flurries of rockets and mortars, as many as 50 attacks a day were launched against the euphemistically called Green Zone. You could be forgiven for wondering if there weren’t two Gods fighting for possession of the souls of the world. Guardian Angels abounded and the number of close scrapes and lucky escapes defies rational explanation. In years gone by people fired round bullets at Christians and square ones at heathens – I wonder if old man Hiram Maxim, the inventor of the machine-gun knew something we don’t.
It was four in the afternoon and Johan was quietly walking his dog behind the Interim Iraqi Government building when he noticed a wildly gesticulating Gurkha shouting at him. I should mention that Johan was slightly deaf as a result of an unnecessarily hefty cuff to the ear from his drunken father. Huh!!! Asked Johan in typical fashion. The Gurkha started jumping up and down and shouting really loudly at Johan while all the while waiving his arms above his head. ‘Huh!!! What does yous want? ” Johan shouted back in his Afrikaans accent; by this time the dog had squatted to take a leak in the typical undignified arched back method used by young dogs before they learn to lift their hind legs. The Gurkha, now joined by his buddy, shouted even harder, gesticulated and pointed even more vigorously after which even their legendary courage broke and they sprinted for the nearest bunker, diving in from both ends of the concrete shelter. They had not even touched ground when a rocket pegged itself quivering into the ground a mere six paces away from where Johan and the still peeing dog were standing – without detonating!!!!!!!!
Johan promptly joined his canine and pissed himself as well.
There is a sad addendum to this story, Johan returned home after spending an unsuccessful three months desperately attempting to learn rudimentary Gurkhali; vowing never to misunderstand a shouted warning ever again. As is so often the case with people who have new-found wealth he went out and bought a new car. The car was not even a week old when he was involved in an accident and both Johan and his young son were tragically killed.
Anon.
