Affected

8/1/2008

I dreamt in the wee hours of this morning that I was the proud new owner of a scraggly, little puppy. Just days after learning that one of two family dogs, a mother, Sulu, was killed because she had attacked, and I am assuming killed, a neighbor’s pintade or guinea fowl. To some, this may sound like too harsh a punishment, but when you live in the bush, with the price of pintade meat as high as it is (2000 cfa +) and the ability to produce pintade eggs (tastier than chicken eggs), another highly priced commodity, you begin to realize the reasoning behind such drastic punishments. Every household, or almost every household, owns a canine guardian, and you can’t very well have all the dogs killing off the pintades. Even I would be upset. However, I did become friendly with Sulu; I developed a trust with her as I was one of the few creatures in her brutal life that offered any sort of affection. It had gotten to the point where she would run up to me whenever either of us returned home. So it’s no wonder that her death upset me, especially since my host family was so casual about the whole affair. The Togolese do not harbor the same sentiments or attachments towards pets or animals as do Americans. The odd thing was that even before I asked what happened, I knew she was dead. Strange…
So last night’s dream sequence involved the adoption of a new puppy. It was one of those scenarios in which we bonded instantly; we took to each other like mother and child. And for a moment, I remember feeling tremendous love for the little animal, but true to my life inside and outside of Peace Corps, I knew I didn’t want the responsibility of another animal’s dependency, unlike the Daniel Cullop Petting Zoo. J I have had other dreams, but with human fetuses where the same sentiments resurface each time: maternal affection and paralyzing panic. I’m confident that should I decide in the future to be the mother, caregiver or guardian to any living creature that I could do it with instinctual dexterity, however, the prospect of this role, at this moment, leaves me absolutely terrified. While I approach thirty and many of my friends are getting married and having babies, I have yet to experience a sustained, intimate relationship let alone welcome an infant of any species into my life. This is not to say that the task of nurturing a new life into existence isn’t a noble one, but to comprehend and accept that such a project would be premature for me, in my opinion, is priceless. It’s true that there will probably never be a “perfect” moment, but at least any feelings of flight should be dissipated. Don’t you think?