What Cameroonians don’t understand about dogs

To Cameroonians, dogs are either good for “le chase ou le guard;” They are either hunting dogs or guard dogs. And every dog that gracefully herds a pack of village goats to some random destination gets grouped into the hunting category. After having lived with Owondo for a year now, I think it is safe to say that many village dogs here in Cameroon are neither good for hunting nor guarding. But they are amazing herding dogs, and if properly trained could be great additions to the Haoussa men who walk alongside cattle trying to keep the beef from messing too much with vehicle traffic.

In the heat of a 2pm sun, Owondo and I took our bazillionth walk down the road, past the site of the Comice. I let him off leash as usual and, as usual, thought how stupid I was to let him off leash ‘cause the damn dog never comes when I call him. Today, he ventured down a footpath right to where some short and browned grass in a perfect square remind visitors of where the longest standing tent from the Comice stood until just a few weeks ago. Owondo, usually too distracted by the flocks of tiny brown birds that perch on the ends of grasses and scatter in perfect waves when he leaps too close, stopped dead in his tracks: off to one end of the browned patch of earth, he saw cows! Cows and goats, maybe 10 of each, grazing together, unwatched save for our eyes. This is the closest he has come to a cow, and certainly the first time he has encountered a free range cow in his entire life.

I watch him from 10 feet down the footpath as he contemplates how to handle this situation. He often sees goats, as villagers keep a steady stash of them for emergency purposes like to pay for funeral costs or wedding celebrations (though the goats usually grow too old or die before they become financially useful). Sometimes I like to let him off leash to watch him chase the goats, partly because I love seeing Owondo at his happiest and partly for the sense of empathy I feel for all the villagers who’ve lost crops to stupid, useless goats. The goats are usually just barely faster than him, even the month-old babies, and I’m not sure if he even wants to catch one or just nip at its heels for a while (which might also explain his obsession with feet). It seems he makes his decision in a split second, and runs after a group of 4 goats grazing together. He successfully herds them back with the other animals grazing off in a patch of tall grasses to the side, though he seems too afraid to try to keep the few stray big cows tucked in with the larger group.

I move in closer to him. Part of me is afraid he is going to try to herd the cows and get his skull crushed, and the other part wants to try to encourage him to interact with the cows. It is only in moving close that you can hear the animals chomping away at the tall grasses, and the sound, combined with the movement of the grasses in the slight breeze, reminds me of the ocean waves. Owondo, if trained, could be like a boat cutting through that ocean, redirecting the waves momentarily until they get back to a regular, calm movement. Instead, after watching the cows for a while, he backs down, maybe realizing they are too big in number and too big in size to mess with. I bribe him to let me put his leash back on, and start the walk back home, though I have to pull Owondo part of the way because he can’t stop fantasizing about the cows (or the beef).