So let me talk about dogs.
This the sign on the gate where I work.
Pretty scary, eh?"
Here are the ever-vigilant guard dogs inspecting an intruder.
Gee! He didn't even stop!
He went right on into the people cave!
Ok, if the pack didn't scare you, how about Bob?
We call him "Bob" because of his tail...or lack thereof.
He's a pretty good daddy.
The Alpha pup hanging out with Dad.
Ever since the pups have been weaned, Bob is the primary care-giver.
Nothing like a nap on a warm dirt pile in the sun!
These two are almost always together.
There is a third white pup, but he hangs with the Alpha.
The Alpha pup!
Confident, fearless and the most vocal.
My favorite, but I always like the dominant dogs,
as my wife can attest from my own dogs at home.
The runt...the shy one.
She's sweet and cute, but hangs back.
Dreaming of goodies!
This is one of the "neighbor dogs" at Camp Dubbs.
He resides at the guard shack.
He's fond of Westerners, but not Afghans.
The guards provide him with his own food and water bowls.
Most of the feral dogs around the camp have become socialized. Which actually comes in handy, because they are a great early warning system. The dogs tend to be cautious approaching Afghans they don't know, but they don't hesitate approaching Westerners. They seem to speak English -- clever dogs!
They get plenty to eat via the French, Italians, Americans, Aussies, Ghurkas and the occassional Afghan. The Afghan officers in our building typically put their left-over food in the lid of the trash can and leave it out for the dogs. The dogs near our office don't even need to drink from puddles because they have a big bowl that gets refilled with fresh water all day by the Afghans and Ghurkas.
