Sharon and My Mother-in-Law by Suad Amiry

Author:Suad Amiry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Nonfiction
ISBN: 9780307427687
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2007-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

9

A Dog’s Life

1987–95

It was one of those rare moments when I could easily have killed someone.

But to kill Dr. Hisham, the only vet in Ramallah (probably the only one in the whole district), would have been a national scandal. It probably would have caused a rural uproar, perhaps not one as important as the renowned 1834 Peasant Revolution against Ibrahim Pasha (the son of Mohammad Ali Pasha, the ruler of Egypt).

It all started in the peaceful town of Jericho, where Salim and I spent most of our weekends away from troubled Ramallah during the 1987 uprising.

We were driving along Khidaiwi Street (I wonder if the name has any connection with the Egyptian Khidaiwis, the descendants of Mohammad Ali Pasha) when I glimpsed two puppies cuddled up in a ditch at the side of the road. I quickly stopped the car and rushed out towards them. One was dark and one blond, and they were sitting on top of one another, keeping each other warm, in the already very warm town of Jericho. I held one in each hand and, with great excitement, looked at Salim. With a very worried expression, he looked me straight in the eye and said firmly, “NO.”

“Poor little things—sooner or later they’ll be run over by a car,” I replied.

“No, they won’t,” insisted Salim.

“Look at them, they are so absolutely cute,” I said as they dangled with their soft tummies exposed.

“I know,” Salim replied, looking away from them.

“Why not, then?” I insisted.

“Who is going to take care of them?” asked Salim.

“I will, of course,” I said joyfully, seeing that I was starting to win the case.

“You’re busy and traveling most of the time. Dogs are worse than babies, they need constant attention . . . and affection,” he added.

Oh, God, how this argument reminded me of the many arguments Salim and I had had over having or not having children.

But this time I was not willing to compromise.

It was heartbreaking to make the choice. There was no way I could have convinced Salim to adopt both puppies.

The dark brown puppy was left behind, and ’Antar the blond (of course) accompanied us home to Ramallah. The joy and excitement over acquiring ’Antar was for a long time mixed with a lot of guilt. Perhaps that’s why ’Antar behaved him from his brother (or sister).

“You can tell how big a dog will grow up to be by the size of his paws,” said a friend of mine as he held two of ’Antar’s huge paws. That was not reassuring, as ’Antar’s paws were one-third of his size. He also told me that I should change the name (’Antar bin Shaddad, a classical poet hero in Arabic literature, was known for his chivalry and heroic military deeds—in other words, a symbol of machismo), as ’Antar turned out to be a she. But it was too late.

As a matter of fact, for years we continued to treat ’Antar as a he.

“Is four in the afternoon a good time? I’ll be there,” said Dr.

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