The next door neighbor (who used to hit his wife) has a guard dog that he leaves in his house but he himself doesn't live there and only comes once every blue moon. The poor dog is all alone in a big house with a wild garden, no company, no food, no water. At night he barks or cries to call for attention, and sometimes my dad or my sisters or I go out to just talk to him: "Rookie, Rookie! Here, boy", and he stops barking. He's lonely.
There's just a narrow alley between our house and his, and we throw him food whenever we can - it's just after Eid so we have a lot of meat, we give him bones and fat, all that. He's fed. The problem is water, and especially right now, it's unbearably hot. I don't know what happened but these past few days he hasn't had anything to drink, and he's been crying.
So tonight all 4 of us went on a mission. We cut a jerrican of water in half, drilled holes on two sides, put a rope in it, filled it with water. Then I climbed in the wall of the garden and using that rope and another, I lowered the jerrican. Poor Rookie was waiting right below the wall, silent and patient, not barking or growling because he knows us and I guess he smelled the water, and as soon as I took out the second rope and turned my back, he started drinking the water. He was so thirsty...
Anyway, we left the rope hidden on the wall so we could take the jerrican back and fill it again, and while I was jumping down the wall, I scraped my arm a little. I hadn't climbed walls in 15 years! I used to be a daredevil when I was a kid, I guess I lost some of my moves. But at least Rookie has some water!
See, I don't get Western pet culture, but I also cannot abide by animal maltreatment. Unacceptable. I hope I can catch the neighbor if he ever comes back because I will absolutely yell at him.
allow me to tell you of the grave error i made yesterday. it was 8pm. i was cooking moroccan stew. needed to let it simmer for 25 minutes before i added the chickpeas. i shall go upstairs, thought i, and take a shower, and leave the chickpeas on the counter to drain. puddles the cat is sleeping near the stove. i briefly consider locking her out of the kitchen - but surely even she, leviathan of unconquerable appetites, will not concern herself with hard, drained, uncooked chickpeas. surely not.
with this set-up in mind, what do you imagine i found when i came back downstairs?