A shy pie -- dog, that is

A shy pie, or pariah dog-- loved by his family.

If you are trying to read this dog's body language, allow me to help.

He was a shy pie or pariah dog, and he didn't want his picture taken.

I suppose I didn't look right, smell right, or act right.

This was the best I could do.

We had stopped on a country road to buy dried fish (camera trap bait), and as the lady weighed out 3 D-cells worth of fish I noticed the pie dog.

He was clearly trying to be discrete.

So I sidled around the family members and he lowered his head.

Good enough, I thought -- I'll just squat down for a shot at his level.

He wanted no part of this weird looking old dude.

Village dogs may keep their distance from strangers, but they are not afraid to look at you.

This dog acted like I was going to catch and eat him. 

Frank Kingdon Ward, the famous botanical explorer wrote of a caravan of yoked Chinese dogs --"prick-eared curs of no breeding" on their way to market in the headwaters of the Irrawaddy.

That is far from here, and he had nothing to fear.

And there may be more to his story, but as far as I could tell, he was just a shy pie.

Reference

Kingdon Ward, Frank. 1990. Himalayan Enchantment, an anthology. (Chosen and edited with an introduction by John Whitehead). Serindia Publications, London. 

Crossing paths

May 8, 2004, Saturday morning

Location: the tail of the Himalayas (just a place you pass over while watching the inflight movie)

The trail straddled a ridge covered with pines and rhododendrons. In burned clearings were thickets of Himalayan blackberries and brackens. To the south a vast canyon, in the distance slash and burn.

A light-footed stranger came down the trail.

He was armed -- spear, long bow, a bamboo quiver of arrows, and a dah (machete). No shoes. He wore an oversized suit jacket.

There were no villages nearby.

I had to talk with him. Shein translated to Homang, Homang translated to the stranger.

His name was Boomenai, and he was 76 years old. He had two wives and ten children. Two are still living.

He was on his way to Kanpetlet, a two-day march from his village. He had slept in the forest, and roasted a bird for dinner last night.

I would like to know him better, but have to be satisfied with his picture.

Anyone who carries a spear, hunts with a bow, and sleeps in his suit jacket is my kind of guy.