Introducing Mirabella.. and my Ghana-versary

Birthday #24 and one month Ghana-versary

I'm sure most of you have heard the expression "careful what you wish for." It seems to be dealt mostly at the tail end of some sort of come-up-ins. When someone gets what they deserve after hours/weeks/months/years of heady laments detailing things they are not prepared to receive.

I seem to have fallen into this particular predicament, and am unable to talk my way out of it. Upon my arrival in Kumasi, an acronym was assigned to my behavior. RFP. It would surface in situations like these:

"Don't mind Rachel, she's daydreaming about owning goats and didn't hear you... RFP."

"Rachel, hurry up and stop trying to steal those chickens, we're late for our program. RFP."

"RFP is real guys, Rachel is talking about building a solar oven for the house."

"Everyone, in the latest installment of RFP, I have decided to build us an outdoor shower."

RFP: Rachel's Farming Problem.

What I think is funniest about this acronym is that it's not a Farming Problem.. it's more of a Growing Up In The Pacific Northwest Problem. Where I come from, this isn't abnormal, it's a discussion of casual weekend plans over home brews and dirty outdoor gear. No one at home would think twice if I decided to build a chicken coop in my backyard, get a goat or two for a side hustle in milk/yogurt, or adopt a random (seemingly homeless) animal. In fact, they would probably start a co-op with me and voila!, we would have yet another small Portland business.

In fact, I have a legacy of acquiring animals in Africa, so really I should have seen this coming. I was gifted a calf by a nomadic herdsman on the border of Senegal and Mauritania. My former roommate and I were given a kitten on the streets of Yoff, which I snuck into the hotel during orientation week of my second study abroad program. I popped maggots from the skin of a puppy I named Blue, only to have him whisked away after he took a caca on the carpet of my host family's home in Dakar.

Thus, my new friends were somewhat stupified when I spoke with complete sincerity of building a solar oven in the backyard, constructing a chicken coop for eggs and chicken soup, perhaps even a goat or two. I entertained the idea of a cat, or less seriously, a dog. The cat and the dog were idle musings. As they couldn't be used for some kind of enterprise, what was the point? And besides, that's a real emotional connection that would, inevitably, be left here if/when I choose to leave. I'm trying to stay out of the business of heartbreak and acquiring a dog predestined for abandonment would not jive well with those efforts.

Alas, the world was about to lean in and say, "careful what you wish for," softly into my ear.

Fabulous cross-cultural birthday dinner

The morning of my birthday, my one-month Ghana-versary, I had plans. I had plans to go for a 6 am run with my roommate, lazily stretch and smell a delicious breakfast being made in my honor. Spend the afternoon dress shopping with my other roommate, and have a community dinner with the people I've grown to love dearly here. Food. Friends. I wanted nothing else on my birthday.

I met my friend on the terrace before my morning run, and he presented me with a box. Inside... was a puppy. The saga continues. RFP is real. Here I am daydreaming about dress shopping and banana pancakes and I was handed a dog instead. Is it stamped on my forehead? She's in Africa. Quick! Somebody give her an animal.

My mind being what it is.. I go down an RFP wormhole. I used to work in a vet clinic, I got this. Hold up. Local veterinarian? Hard to find. Vaccines? Undoubtedly expensive. Spay? It's just gotta happen. Food? Don't make me laugh; this street dog is eating scraps. Fencing? Futile, the gate is left open by half the neighborhood coming in and out of our compound. Fleas and mites? Check; gotta find a way to get rid of those. House trained? Only if I'm lucky. Leash? What? For all those dog parks that are close? I live in Ghana, not Central Park. Hiking dog? Hell yes. Can she fit in my backpack? We're about to find out. 

Banana pancakes, breakfast scramble... and Mira.

Naps

Bash and Mira

 I'll be honest, half the day was me in shock. But she won me over. All of us, actually. She's the house dog as much as mine, given how open the house plan is. We've all fallen pretty hard for her brown eyes and cat-eye eye liner. The way she wiggles all over when you look at her, and constant pouncing and prancing. She's got us, now we just need to adjust to life with her in it.

The measures I've taken to handle the flea/ear mite infestation have been interesting. After some careful internet perusal.. I experimented with the following concoctions:

Garlic/ginger infused soybean oil: I would have preferred coconut oil but I couldn't find it, there's limited selection in Kumasi grocery stores. Garlic and ginger have natural antimicrobial/bacterial/fungal properties. Garlic, if ingested by dogs, thins red blood cells but is great for topical use. I chopped garlic and ginger, added it to the oil and let it infuse as the oil came to light boil. I let that sit for a couple hours to cool and increase potency. Using a q-tip, I then swabbed out Mira's ear and massaged a drop into her ear canals. No signs of bugs have been seen since! (1 week later)

Lemon/vinegar solution at bath time

Lemon/apple cider vinegar: boiling sliced lemons and letting it sit releases a natural toxin (deadly to insects). Apple cider vinegar, useful as non-toxic household cleaning agent, increases flea repellency. The two combined were supposed to kill the fleas with the first application, then I would simply periodically douse her with it to ensure they stay away. This had mixed results. When I tried simply brushing it into her fur, there was a high death rate, but still some fleas. Next I tried submerging her in it (diluted with fresh water) in an attempt to drown/poison the rest of them. Again, mixed success. I think for this one I'll break down and try to find a flea collar.

Doggy torture: Lemon/vinegar bath

Home Made Food: the evening of my birthday I found myself cooking a pre-supper in bulk for my dog. I was cooking for my dog. The concept is still somewhat absurd, but it's certainly cheaper than the outrageously priced dog food they have in stores here. As the average Ghanaian just gives their dogs scraps, people who want to actually feed their dog kibble have to pay for it. As I'm living on a volunteer stipend, I can't afford to; it's really that simple. But neither do I want to give Mira fried rice laced with pepe and shito and not expect her to caca all over the compound. So I take the leftover plain rice from one of our meals, chop up some carrots and green beans. Add an egg. Bon appetite. Simple and healthy. It's also a temporary solution until I can do some more research on cheap foods to acquire.

So I might have learned my lesson, to be careful what I wish for. I've wanted my own dog for years, but never did I expect she would be a mixed breed Ghanaian dog that wakes me up at 6 am sharp with chin nibbles. Or prances along behind me, simply proud as punch that she's able to keep up. Or looks up at me with soft brown eyes when I'm sick and snuggles into my neck. Or digs up bones and leaves them on my bed because she's that generous. Or howls guiltily when she thinks I'm walking away too fast.

Lesson learned. And RFP has, for now, been stymied. (There is, however, a half-constructed solar oven in my hallway. So look forward to that! But for now, glorify in these pictures of Mira's adorableness.)

Getting comfy

Getting used to coming to work with us

Oh. Hai. 

6 AM sharp: this is how I wake up now, with an incisor in my chin