Letter to Bracken

I lied in my last post. I said it was going to be about the things I have learned about myself since I moved to Cairo. That one is still in production, but I have a more important one to write first.

I read an article today entitled Expat Loss: Dealing With Leaving Your Pet Behind*. I had to leave my dog behind when I moved to Cairo, so I am going to take the advice in the article and write her a letter.

Dear Bracken,

When I rescued you, you were already 13. You were a bit chubby due to lack of exercise and crap food, and you had arthritis in your back legs which had been left untreated. You were so anxious about every new experience. Over the next three years we faced many challenges together, but we sorted your back legs, your doggy dementia and your weight problem. You gradually came out of your shell and became the Bracken we know and love today. You might be an old lady of 16, but you're still like a playful pup at times and live your life to the full.

You must have wondered why, after all we went through together, I left you. Well I can tell you it was the hardest decision of my life, and you were one of the main reasons why. The thought of not being able to pick you up and cuddle you whenever I want (not that you like that anyway so you're probably happy about this), not seeing your cute little face in the morning and not being able to watch you do your 'mad dog' thing as you hurdled through the french windows, filled me with grief. Actually, it still does. But I had to take this one chance at a different life. To begin with I thought that I would wait until you passed away, but you're a tough little thing (thankfully) so I could have been waiting a long time. Then I thought I would take you with me, but then I realised this was totally selfish. You are just too old to justify putting you through the trauma of the journey. Also, you're designed for howling gales and lashing rain, not 45 degree heat. You'd have hated it here.

I was so lucky that Granny and Grandad gave you a home. Now you have constant attention, another doggy friend, lots of lovely treats (because unlike me, Granny likes cooking, and Grandad is a total soft touch) and lots of walking and sniffing. You have settled in brilliantly and have really bonded with both of them, but Granny especially. Grandad calls you wee Snudge. You seem really happy and healthy from all the photos they send me. You're still an amazing little dog. I'm so glad about this but I want you to know that I miss you dreadfully. I think about you all the time and constantly look at photos of you. I long to stroke your soft ears and give you a back leg rub - you know, the one where you stretch your legs right out and almost do a belly flop.

I might get another dog here in Cairo, God knows there are plenty of dogs needing to be rescued. If I do, I want you to know that you will always be my number one dog. No dog can replace you in my affections. I love and miss you so much, and I wish there was a way I could get you to understand that. I'll ask Granny to give you a massive hug from me and you can wriggle indignantly.

Lots of love poochkins,
Carol

* Expat Nest (www.expatnest.com) is a professional online counselling service for expats.

Trigger thumb, mosquito bites and other assorted minor ailments

I had a look at my blog post list a minute ago, and discovered to my total amazement that my blogs have been read exactly 3000 times. I'm overwhelmed and delighted about this. As I haven't written one for a while, this prompted me to get my ass in gear. So here is the news.

I was meant to start my new job with the British Council on 3rd January, but a comedy of errors ensued and I didn't start until the 6th January. I arrived back from the UK late afternoon on 2nd, and dutifully texted my new boss to ask what time he wanted me to start the following day. "Oh are you starting tomorrow?" he replied. "I thought you were starting on 5th!" I asked if he wanted me to start on the 5th, secretly relieved, as I felt pretty knackered from the journey. We agreed I would start on the 5th. It was not to be. I spent the whole of the night of the 4th and the morning of the 5th throwing up. I did actually consider trying to drag myself out of bed to go to work, but decided that having to rush to the loo every five minutes was not the first impression I wanted to create. So I reluctantly let them know I wasn't going to make it in. Luckily I felt too ill to be worried about how this would look.

I still felt pretty crap on the 6th, but I had at least stopped throwing up. Unfortunately, on the night of the 5th, a mosquito had snuck into our bedroom unnoticed by me (I'm usually pretty good at spotting the little f***ers but I can only assume one of them took advantage of my distressed situation) and had to go to work with my top lip and left eye swollen and red. God knows what they thought. Botox gone horribly wrong maybe? I really wasn't myself that day but luckily most of it was spent doing administration type stuff and observing a training session. Then the 7th January was a national holiday for Coptic Christmas, so my first week at work ended up being one day long.

I really needed the three days off because then I caught the worst cold ever in the history of colds. It also progressed backwards - it started with a cough, then a sore throat, then a runny nose and sneezing. I think I must be run down or something because I don't normally get colds. I still haven't got rid of it in fact. Added to this list of minor ailments and mosquito bites, I have also got a condition called trigger thumb. I'm absolutely convinced this was caused by a mad cleaning session I had in the apartment just before I went back to the UK. I always knew cleaning was bad for you. I've got to go to the hospital tomorrow to have that looked at, because it's really painful when I write, which is a bit of problem when you need to write down a lot of new stuff because you've just started a new job.

But wait! There's more. I went to my dentist in Scotland while I was back because I had an abscess. I've got a bridge over a two-tooth gap, and apparently the roots in the two retaining teeth at one end of it have died. As it was Christmas week, I couldn't get it done in Scotland, so I had the daunting prospect of finding a dentist in Cairo. This turned out not to be as hard as I thought it would be. There's a dentist opposite the hostel called (wait for it) George Edwards, who is, in fact, Egyptian. He was lovely, and a great dentist. So out of all these ailments, the teeth turned out to be the easiest to resolve.

I came to the conclusion that things could only get better on the job front, after starting a day late with an upset stomach, unfortunately located mosquito bites, trigger thumb, a hideous cold and a huge abcess in my mouth. Sure enough, I started afresh on the Sunday, and this week has been really good. The people seem to be lovely, the office is great, the job so far is well within my sphere of expertise, and I can sit out in the sun to eat my lunch. So I am feeling positive about it and hopefully this will continue. Insha'Allah as we say over here.

I'm also going to start an English class tomorrow to keep my hand in with the teaching. They are a lovely group of people and I think they'll be good fun to teach. The slight issue is that our dining table and chairs haven't arrived so my classroom will be a bit makeshift. They were supposed to arrive on Tuesday. In a totally unsurprising turn of events, they didn't. And I STILL don't have a dishwasher, or a phone line. On the plus side I do have some lounge furniture, so we don't have to use plastic garden chairs and a plastic stool as a table any more. As it happens, the couch is also meant for the terrace, but as we're still waiting for the other couches, we're using it instead. Our coffee table is traditional arab style and is hand crafted to an original design. You can see it in the photo. At least when stuff does eventually arrive it's of great quality. We are getting there slowly.

That's pretty much all of my news. My next blog post will be about the things I have learned about myself in the last 12 months. I didn't think I had much more to learn about myself, but moving to Cairo has proved me wrong.

RIP Baraka

Following my last post, I have to share some sad news. I'm really sorry to report that Baraka, the dog I was going to adopt from ESMA, died while I was back in the UK for Christmas. I am really sad about this because instead of ending her life in peace and security, she ended it in pain and misery. This was no fault of the wonderful people at ESMA, she just wasn't doing well in the shelter.

I will adopt another dog from ESMA, but the problem is that I found it all so distressing that I don't want to go back. ESMA are being great though and are working with me on a way to see some dogs without having to back to the dog shelter. I'll keep you updated.