He knows the dogs. I keep only Milo on the lead as he chases chickens, but apparently Neura also has an interest in animals, sheep in particular. She eyes them and they eye her as they move away quickly. She eyes the man, he calls her over for a pet, albiet a gingerly one, and she leaves the sheep alone. The Turks don't typically keep dogs as pets and most exhibit fear of them if they get anywhere close. Supposedly it's because there is such a mandate for cleanliness in Muslim life and dogs are seen as filthy creatures, vicious to boot.
|Three girls who now know the delight of dogs.|
It's a week-long national holiday, maybe the longest and largest in Turkey.
|Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?|
The girls were from somewhere else (?), here visiting relatives, and staying in the hotel up the street. Between their few grade-school English words, and my three-new-words-a-day Turkish, we mostly just had fun with the dogs which didn't require elaborate verbal detail. When we got down into the canyon, the girls turned back, saying they had to go to dinner.
|Zeno - now who couldn't love a mug like that?|
Jim invited me to a dinner too, with a bunch of English speakers, some of whom come from as far away as Goreme and Urgup. There aren't many people living here who aren't Turkish. The host is a British pilot named Dave who rents a house here while he works almost daily taking tourists up in one of the hot air balloons that I see every morning floating in or above the canyons.
With all the loud baaaaa-ing going on in the walled yards nearby, I do hope we aren't having mutton for dinner!
|A neighbor boy with his pet chicken.|
|Inside an abandoned cave home, with pigeon|
nest boxes carved into the walls. People keep pigeons
for their guano and nesting materials, fertilizer for the gardens.