See Spot Get Dragged and Beaten

I have just witnessed something truly Transkein (purely of the Transkei region and generally not to be seen elsewhere in South Africa, or the UK) on its nature. I cannot decide whether it was awful, hilarious, symptomatic of something significant, or just one of those things. I have decided that getting that gate put on the pre-school is a priority so this doesn’t happen on my turf. There are too many animals milling about outside the front door as it is.

Tom was sitting down painting the pre-school in his wee pad. He said “there’s a dead dog over there”. He was right. Rigamortis had set in and Tom confirmed that, after poking, it was not moving, despite having open eyes.

So here we have a wee dead pooch outside the rondavel (round house) next to the pre-school rondavel. I wondered what dead dog policy was in Zithulele. My gut instinct was that there was not a rigorous procedure for disposal. I asked a local granny, seemingly the owner of the rondavel outside which the corpse was lying, “Is it dead?”. “I think so, yes. Oy”. Then she said something about children (I heard the isiXhosa – “abantwana”). Evidently it was “hey kids, come and look at the dead dog!”, because they came in droves. Thereafter she set about managing her new team. “You, get the leftover IEC (Independent Electoral Commission) tape from the gate/fence”. Tie it around his dead legs. Yes, both of his rear, dead legs. Now, pull him away somewhere. My thoughts about dead dogs needing to be kept away from little children, clearly had not come over in my facial expression.

Following that, I witnessed - and just failed to get a good photo of - a dead dog being pulled at pace by a big group of 6 year olds, some of whom were hitting it with sticks. As they disappeared down a dirt road, I had to wonder where they would end up and what state doggy would be in after it’s drawing.

In a place where no-one has thought to pull down the IEC tape over a week after the election, with random litter scattered around the ground, it is no wonder that dispatching off a dog corpse does not involve a burial ceremony and reassuring the little ones that he is in doggy heaven. They know he is not in doggy heaven, because Derek, Steve and Betty have got him by the hind legs and are running about town with him.

RIP, Spot. You were a mangey dog. You never bit me when I was running, but you wanted to. Now you are dead from having dirty dog disease. I hope you get buried before you go off.