It's no secret that I've been doing some pretty massive lobbying around this house, trying to convince Johan that we should absolutely get ourselves a dog. He's always been a bit yeahmehwhatevsmaybe, so when I found out that all it actually took to convince him was a big backyard and a neighborly Rhodesian Ridgeback, I cursed myself for not having him posted in Africa sooner.
Anyway, here she is. Hazel. A big, beautiful dog if ever there was one, and my partner in crime during the three weeks that I spent in Kenya. Several times a day she'd come by and paw at the door if not open it herself, and then after a bit of playing with a worn-out sock and a mutilated tennis ball, she'd lie down on the grass and wait to be fed with cheese flavored corn chips.
I'm telling you, both Johan and I grew so close with this dog that one night, when we went out for dinner at a fancy steak place in Nairobi, it felt like the most natural thing to gesture towards the half-eaten ribeye on my plate and ask: "Can we get this to go? It's for the dawg".