And Dyambu was his Name-O!

I’m not sure I word spreads as fast in the States as it does in the village, but the rumors are true. I have a dog! Well aware of my undeniable love of animals, my host uncle visited my house one sunny, South African afternoon with a small, scraggly puppy tucked under his arm. In South African custom, it is rude to turn down a gift, so I didn’t. With outstretched arms, I received the puppy and cradled him affectionately.

I named the puppy in as authentic a South African fashion as I know to date. I have given the puppy a name that symbolizes the day which he came into my life. Many children here are named “Faith” or “Life” or “Blessings” or “Happiness” or “Joy”, depending on the circumstances present in the parent’s life during the time of labor or birth. Every name has a story. The parents each tell these stories with pride about their children and what was happening in their lives at the time. So the day I met the puppy, the sun was bright and it was very hot. Therefore, I bestowed the name of Dyambu on the puppy, which means “sun” in the village’s native language, Xitsonga. Extending the story and the metaphor, the puppy is happy and vibrant and full of energy, just like the sun.


Holding him in my arms, I quickly noticed that his wispy, dry hair was infested with fleas and blood sucking ticks. I immediately got to work, plucking these pests off his skin and even recruited the help of a neighborhood fourth grader who helped me burn the ticks off with an extinguished, smoldering match.



Dyambu is full of life and energy. He spends his days roaming the backyard spread searching for anything that moves. His mischievous tendencies get him into heaps of trouble as he often puts himself in situations where he is obviously outmatched. He stalks his prey in a crouched position a then pounces clumsily and awkwardly. He attempted to take on 3 roosters this afternoon and was chased tirelessly and his tail was strummed and yanked. He is ungraceful, and habitually trips over his own paws, or veers in front of me as we walk side by side, tripping me.






Dyambu frequently visits with the puppy across the street, improperly named Bully who is nearly three times his size and twice as old. Bully eagerly smashes through my makeshift front gate each day to escape the horrors at his house and join Dyambu for an afternoon of companionship and mischief.

My relationship with both dogs has helped generate a new consciousness of thinking about animals in the village. My kind treatment and loving practices were immediately disregarded initially, but as I chip away at layers of habitualized violent behavior and ingrained inferior thoughts of animals, coupled with neglect, cruelty, and exploitation, I feel as though many children are more receptive and open to loving animals. I am seen everywhere in the village interacting with these dogs, carrying them in my arms and playing with them till no end. Bully frequently follows me far and wide.

Last week, I was greeted by Bully at my front gate. He insisted on following me to school, playing with me along the way. As we approached school entrance, the sinister bell sounded, releasing a wave of children our way. If only Bully and I had been just a bit faster, we could have avoided the tidal wave that was swelling around us. I braced myself and kneeled to the ground, clutching Bully in my arms to offer safety from the ensuing crowd. Ironically, the chaos that we expected did not materialize. Instead, a circle developed around us, as we stopped in the front of the school. More than 200 learners stood around us, gawking, and laughing, and cheering, as I got on the ground on all fours and played with Bully. Some gasped, while others made hissing sounds in disgust. When I rose and Bully leaped forwards towards the crowd, the children separated and dashed in all directions. Bully returned to me and mounted my leg, and the circle formed again around us. When I stood again, Bully started to run around the inner circle. The children parted like the Red Sea. Our friendly interaction turned into a game. Bully wagged his tail in excitement. He was enjoying the energy and the movement of the children. Some of the children were genuinely scared, and even a few began to cry. Two children picked up rocks and sticks to throw at the dog as they systematically do when they see an animal, but after they caught a glimpse of the stern look on my face, they dropped their weapons. Some of the more daring children moved forward for a closer look. The bravest of all even offered an outstretched hand to pet Bully on the top of the head. I stood back in amazement and even snapped a handful of photos. This is progress!