There's a dog at the guest house named Kallie. I'm not sure how it's supposed to be spelled, but it means "fierce" in Swahili, and it's a guy. All the Western guests who come always talk about what a nice dog she is. They are wrong on two accounts. First, it's a guy, and not a girl. Second, he's hardly nice. An example...
Nigel was here for a couple days this weekend. He went swimming as it was getting dark and after it was quite dark already comes knocking on my door.
"Josh, would you mind helping me with something?"
"Sure, what is it?"
"Well, I was swimming and I had. Do you have a good flashlight?"
"Yeah, I got two" (as I grab them and follow him out the door)
"I was swimming and I put my glasses on a rock where I thought Kallie couldn't get them, but she did and now they're gone. They might have just fell a bit, but I don't think they could have went into the lake, and I have these glasses (pointing to his face) but they aren't the right prescription and give me headaches." I knew that feeling, so I helped him look. After 5 minutes we got more people and Lyn found the glasses about 15 feet away from where he put them down, scratched and completely out of alignment as the dog ate the plastic ear caps and put sizeable dents into parts of the frames.
Memo to self to not put my glasses down on the steps on top of my sandels like I usually do.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
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