Papi, not-my-dog who vanished in the pursuit of love, eventually came back. He was beaten up, scarred and limping – presumably he’d been doing battle with younger, stronger dogs for the favours of whatever luscious girls they’d found in the village.
But he was home, he was alive, and has since recovered. Here he is, lounging in the sun at the end of this winter. Looking tiny besides Laica!
Now, in fact, he has his very own wife. Now adult, Laica has been on a chain for two years since she was only a few months old. She was released over Christmas, when I got the chance to tame this vicious biter (wouldn’t you be angry and ready to bite if you’d been on a chain 24/7 since your childhood?) with a couple of dog chews and some gentleness. She is a sweet dog, full of energy and enthusiasm, always hungry, always longing for love. And now, very pregnant… Papi is about to become a father. Watch this space…
It’s true: I know it, and am grateful every day. My brother Charles and his family came to Magura this month for their first visit, and he was utterly bewitched by the place. He told all my neighbours that it was magical, like a fairytale. And not just the beauty of the landscape, but the survival of so many traditions: folklore, traditional dress, time-proven skills, food and the whole way of life.
He was fascinated by my neighbour Viorel’s skill with the scythe (I’ll post a video later), and was captivated by a happy moment when Viorel’s wife Roxana and a little chorus of children stopped on their way to a village wedding to give us a preview of the song they would sing for the bride.