Super Mwasha!

I haven't mentioned my dog here yet, partially because my internet time is limited, and partially because I have a pet peeve (no pun intended) about people who subject other people to long and pointless stories about their pets. Don't get me wrong, occasional updates are good, but hearing how muffy caught a frisbee...well, usually something's lost in the retelling. So if you hate pet stories, stop reading now, otherwise...
I have a dog! His name is Mwasha and he used to be a Peace Corp dog until the volunteer (Denise) finished her term of service and decided to let me have him. He's brown, medium-sized, and lean...sort of like a Dingo. He's super-affectionate and, as I found out recently, fiercely protective. I was taking him on a walk yesterday, with the vague goal of finding a good running path. My Tanzanian neighbors all find this hilarious ("Why does she have that dog on a rope?) so they turn out in droves to wave and laugh whenever Mwasha and I go out. Perhaps because of this, or because I have no common sense, I decided to take a deserted path into the brush (it makes somes sense- my neighbors would have a field day with me if I were to go jogging, so spending as little time in public view as possible is a good thing.) Mwasha and I walked about 100 meters before we came around a bend and found ourselves facing a pack of 4 dogs. Have you ever seen a dog fight? It's a terrible and mesmerizing thing- a Jack London short story brought to life ("the law of the club and fang.") The dogs rushed up snarling, and Mwasha reacted instantly....he fought like a trouper, the dogs never got within 5 feet of me, but was a bit torn up before myself (and another Tanzanian man) managed to frighten the dogs away. He has a cut above his eye and another along his muzzle...and I'm a walking wreck. Seriously, I'm starting to think I should never have children. People are malnourished, starving in this country, and I'm a basketcase over a dog. But you should have seen him- not a moment's hesitation about fighting...it was heroic almost. The worst part about everything is trying to find a vet; it's not like you can just look in the yellow pages and make a few phone calls. Luckily, I found one late yesterday willing to make house calls, and he came over today to check on Mwasha's wounds / give him a preventative Rabies shot. Mwasha seems fine, bounding around this morning like nothing had happened. He even had enough energy to escape from my house before I closed the gate causing a 20 minute chase that had the neighborhood children in stitches...at least I can rest easy knowing that if nothing else, I've brought some comic relief to Tanzania.