Hera

 Hera was the wife of Zeus but she is also the eighty pound pitbull that lives with me here in Dakar. Hera is still young, less than two years old, but she is already much stronger than most members of my household. Often I have seen her chase down cats with a fury that is unmatched by even the most avid hunters. One day, a cat ran up a five foot wall and flipped over backwards to avoid her foamy jaws. Lucky for the cat, it was Khadim and not me holding the leash because there is no way I can contain Hera when she decides to run. These hunts are undertaken, I think, with play in mind, but with a dog this big, things get out of control fast. Hera is pure, sleek muscle. She is a beautiful dog. And incredibly powerful. The biggest problem is that Hera is unbelievably obedient, but only to my host brother Khadim. A single noise from him and she submits and walks away, tail between her legs. A firm word from me invokes no response, except maybe to jump on my lap, nevermind that Hera is no lap dog. Occasionally when Khadim is gone and she makes trouble, my mother is able to do something about it, but when left to my own devices I am completely unable to tame this beast.

The other night I invited Joe over, and a little while into his visit Hera came into the living room. Initially she caused no trouble, but soon she got antsy and decided Joe would be a great playmate. She started rolling all over the floor, putting her giant head in his lap, and slobbering everywhere. When he stood up to try to make her leave, she leapt on him with full force and he was forced to push her down. She also tried to get me in on the game, but I think that she preferred Joe's company to mine. Hearing my weak attempts to get her to stop in French, Wolof, and Frolof, my mother came out and put Hera in our back courtyard with the door firmly latched. But no door will contain this beast! On top of being obedient, Hera is incredibly intelligent. She is able to open latched doors by jumping up and pulling the handles down with the weight of her paws as she falls. So no less than five minutes after locking her outside, Hera was back for more. Joe was not in the mood. I don't think his hatred for dogs was about to be tamed by this friendly giant. And the best part is that she managed to break in a second time after being exiled by Moustapha as well. It took a deadbolt to keep Hera outside, but even then we could hear her walking around, moving furniture as she went. It sounds just like a person moving outside when she is there.

“The beast” from The Sandlot is actually living here in Mermoz with me, not next to a baseball field in an American suburb. No chain will hold her! No door will stop her! Oh Hera, the Beast.