Story 4: Rottweilers

Gina had, over the years, occasionally awakened me from my deep sleep with a nightmare-induced scream. So when Gina awoke one night within a few days of our arrival in Africa and said that somebody was outside our bedroom window, I assured her that there could not possibly be anyone there. Besides, our og was quiet; she should just go back to sleep. She lay back down but she did not close her eyes. I closed mine. Within a minute, she froze again. "There's someone there," she whispered frantically. I rose up and sure enough, there were shadows on the drapes.

I leapt out of bed and ran to the window, I threw open the drapes and my heart stopped. There was a gang of six to eight men- all armed with clubs and crowbars, and machetes, standing about eight feet away and looking directly at me. I let out a shriek, but it did not work. The gang started towards us. I knew we were in trouble.

There was no time to think. Immediately, the gang attacked the windows and the steel bars that were welded over them. Glass flew. We fled from the bedroom. There was a phone in the hall-way. I immediately reached for it and dialled the Roma District police station. After what seemed like an eternity, someone answered the phone. He was befuddled and was not responding at all. Over and over, I repeated, "There's a gang of robbers breaking into the house at 5557 Magoye Road, there's at least six of them, they're smashing their way through the windows; the address is 5557 Magoye Road. Do you understand me?"

In film and fiction the policeman is instantly alert, his authoritative voice has a reassurance, you can imagine the radios crackling, patrol cars with lights and sirens speeding to your aid immediatly. But in this case, our man was obviously struggling with something. Perhaps my unfamiliar accent was difficult for him to comprehend. He was my only hope, so I kept asking if he understood. Finally he said that he thought that there might be a patrol somewhere and he would try! On this 'positive reassurance', I gave up on the phone and we fled from the hall-way.

As we passed the main door of the house, I saw our dog which appeared totally oblivious to the bedlam that was happening. I could not believe it! In the mythology of the guard dog, Rottweilers are second only to lions in their ferocity and aggressive natures. Ours was standing there with that gazed look and seemed to be looking at stars.

I decided that regardless, it would be better to have the dog in the house with us, so I tried to seize the canme by the collar and tried to pull him into the house. Years of conditioning had brainwashed him into believing he was not a house dog, he was even allowed into the house. When I tried to drag him, he just dug his heels in and it was an impasse. Thankfully, I prevailed. We could hear the bedlam caused by the gang of robbers nearing us. Dragging our dazed friend along, I montioned Gina to follow me to a room at the far end of our huge house. And there, we remained totally silent, praying.