Our sweet little Star has an ear piercing, sharp bark. She is small enough for it to be high pitched, but large enough to create volume. The worst of both worlds.
I’ve been used to Micah’s loud, low “woof,” so girlie’s shrill “bark” sets my nerves on edge. It’s similar to when I had little boys and was used to the very loud, rumbling noises they would make and then a little girl would come over to play and the high pitched shrieking would be a shocking stab right into my brain.
We’ve hit the 3 week mark and while things are going beautifully, Star is also getting much more comfortable in our house so testing out her voice, patrolling the back yard for invaders, and deciding whether she wants to play with or chase the cat. It doesn’t help that one sets off the other so if Micah barks at anything she joins right in before she even knows what she’s barking at. I’ve become a professional dog whisperer though so we are working on calm as a state of being and teaching them “enough,” to stop the excess barking. I’ve been busy running doggie preschool as their eager eyes watch me, waiting for rewards for lying down peacefully.
Now that Star and Micah get along and like each other, they are shadows of each other and of me. They are happy to lie around most of the day — one at my side and the other at my feet. Camille was mad that Star chewed up one of her stuffed animals (her BeanieBoo dog) and wasn’t impressed when I encouraged her that she didn’t need a stuffed one now that she has a real one. She was also exasperated at being a “dog mom” and complained how it’s “so much work” — if only she knew how much damage and work she has avoided by picking a puppy that was 10 months instead of 3 months.
Camille is doing a good job though. She takes Star for a walk at 9pm before bed and then again at 9am. The dog is brilliant for having the bladder of a desert tortoise. Praise God for the gift of a pet who is happy to keep the same hours we do! She also doesn’t like going out in the daytime (too hot) so goes for a quick potty break before 11 and then not again until 6 when the ground cools down. Micah takes breaks as he pleases in our yard, but Star hasn’t figured that out yet and has to be walked for her to go. I’m about to pick up a set of booties for her so she doesn’t burn her paws on the pavement.
Other than running doggie daycare, I’ve been going to the gym regularly and marathoning various Netflix shows like Chicago Fire/Chicago PD. We’re in the middle of hibernation season here and being patient while we wait to see what “normal life” will look like in the next few weeks as we make plans to go back to school. For now, our days are plenty full with this one who is ready for fun.
Josh and I have a friend who is in our home bible study group that has been stuck in the UAE for the past 4 years, separated from his family, because of a series of court cases and outstanding debts. His story is detailed here.
You know from reading my blog that there are a lot of restrictions and laws here that don’t exist in the US and one of those oddities is that no one can fundraise for any charities other than government authorized ones. So I can’t share it without violating the law. I’m not asking you to donate, but if you could share the link on your social media page, I’d really appreciate it.
His story is only one of many like him — a vicious cycle of being unable to work, but unable to pay debts, and unable to leave — stuck in literal limbo with no options. Thanks for copying and pasting the link if you’re able. God will do the rest.
It makes sense that I’d be won over by a piece of writing, but I didn’t imagine when I read Camille’s persuasive essay, “Why I should have my own pet,” that it would actually end with this little creature joining our family.
Her name is Star, she’s a 10 month old fox-like dog, and she has a fluffy feather of a tail that wiggles her entire body when she wags it.
So how did we get from there to here? 2 years ago when Camille laid out her arguments in her essay (for school — she always writes about animals), she actually had well thought out points such as her brothers each had their own pet and she should get that same chance, she wants to be a vet and work with animals someday and having her own pet would help her with animal experience, and she was already showing responsibility with caring for our current pets so she could be trusted to take care of one of her own. After reading through it and reluctantly agreeing that she did have persuasive points, I agreed that when one of our existing pets ceased to exist, then we would talk about getting “her own” pet. That was a shift from Josh’s position of “No more animals. They are a pain in the behind and create chaos in our lives.” (truth) So she gained a theoretical, someday maybe at that point.
She then went through a phase where she would talk about her prospective pet, always prefacing it morbidly with “When Micah or Zeki dies and I get my own pet, I want a small dog that I can hold.” Or, “I don’t want them to die, but if they did, could I get a little dog like Auntie Amy?” Um, no. I’m all for a smallish dog, but not a tiny one.
When she gets on a kick about something we usually have to tell her to stoppushing because she will get onto a thing and not let it go. Not in a rude, Veruca Salt, kind of way, but like a stream running over a rock, just wearing it down, little by little, until a groove appears and gradually deepens without even noticing it. It will come up in every conversation, she will try to pin down a time or a place or a date to make it more likely that it will happen, and she will attempt to advance her cause any time she sees an opening. Like an enemy taking ground, she slowly advances until I threaten to blast her back to her starting position.
So I don’t know if it was quarantine that made me soft or if another one of my boys leaving home broke my resolve, but at some point at the end of May/early June Camille was asking (again) if she could get her own little dog because Carter was leaving and I don’t even remember how it happened, but I do remember that she got me to maybeafter Carter leaves we’ll look at fostering one . . . and she heard the magic word: maybe.
She saw the crack and dove through it and for the next 2 days I was getting texts at work of pictures of dogs on petfinder and links to shelters in Abu Dhabi.
It’s no doubt that she’s my girl because she researched the heck out of it just the way I would. But when she kept finding dogs in Canada or Mongolia, rather than local, I decided to give her a hand. Because I’m just that loving of a mom can’t keep my fingers off a research topic.
So I started following all the local dog adoption facebook pages — Dogs for Adoption in UAE, Stray Dog Center, Paw Patrol UAE, Animal Action UAE, Dogs in Abu Dhabi . . . and a few more. Because if a little information is good, then more is better, right? And there are a million dogs in this country that need homes. Unfortunately most of them are variations on Micah — saluki mixes that are bigger than we wanted, with a history of street living, resulting in potential separation anxiety issues. Having traveled down the Prozac road with one dog already, I was not looking to take that trip again.
I told Camille that we would look and be open, but that she would have to pray that God would provide the perfect dog for her because small dogs are few and far between here. So I looked every day, scrolling through hundreds of dog posts for just the right one to jump out at me.
In the end, there was only one possibility. I saw her and knew she was it. She was 9 – 10 months old so almost fully grown and only 25 lbs, was living with a foster mom for the past 3 months in an apartment so potty trained, had photos with little kids so not too skittish . . .
I messaged the foster right away and asked the important questions like “can she be left alone without freaking out?” and told her that we were very interested, but unfortunately, because of our city’s lockdown, we were stuck in Abu Dhabi and couldn’t go to Dubai to meet her. The foster and I hit it off and we messaged back and forth over the next several weeks waiting for the rules to change to allow us to leave Abu Dhabi.
And they did change — sometimes daily. Free to leave, but can’t come back to AD without a unobtainable permit. Free to go to Dubai, but you have to have a negative COVID test less than 48 hours old to cross the border. Free to go, but your COVID test has to be taken outside Abu Dhabi in order to count to return home (which meant a minimum of 1 or 2 night stay away while awaiting test results and risking a positive result away from home meaning you’d be stuck in a hotel in Dubai for 14 more days) . . . oh wait, that’s an unreasonable demand — fine, tests taken inside Abu Dhabi will count at the border checkpoint. Flip, flop. Flip, flop. All announced via the very official channel of Instagram at various hours late at night.
But it worked. Instead of it seeming unreasonable to pay $100 and get a brush stuck up my nose just to drive 1 hour away to pick up a dog, after the rule relaxed it seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime. So I hustled myself over to the drive through testing center where they very efficiently swabbed my brain cells and sent me the results by SMS the next morning. Then Camille and I were FREE TO GO GET HER DOG.
She must have been praying fiercely because it took an act of God for me to 1) Go get my nose probed 2) Drive to Dubai by myself 3) risk getting stuck on the wrong side of the border if they didn’t accept the results of my test. 4) try and find my way to a stranger’s apartment in the middle of downtown. Basically this trip hit all of my anxiety inducing targets — but when the day came I wasn’t nervous at all. And I only made 4 wrong turns in Dubai which is almost the same as going right there.
So for the past 4 days Josh and I have been playing full time dog managers — rotating dogs between rooms, getting them used to each others’ smells, walking the dogs together as much as possible, and trying to have them in the same room without reacting to each other. The dummies will walk beautifully together, but then bark and growl at each other inside the house and get each other worked up. Though as long as I’m feeding them bits of liver they’ll sit right next to each other and not even care that the other one is around. Each day it’s getting massively better so I’m hoping that soon we’ll be able to relax inside the house when they are together and not have to keep one or both of them on leashes or bribe them with food every 30 seconds to keep the peace. Just another quarantine project to pass the time.
Every month there is a group of people at church that spend 48 hours in prayer — each person takes a 30 minute shift so there is a constant flow of prayer over our church, country, and world for 48 hours. This is my second month participating and as I feel like an inadequate pray-er, but a decent writer, I’m trying to pray as I write and see if I can form more cogent thoughts than my mind rambling in circles for 30 minutes on repeat of “Thank you Lord for how you provide for us — please help XXX . . .what do I have in the fridge to cook for dinner tonight — dang it, I’m supposed to be praying. Where was I? Thank you Lord . . . “
Lord, thank you for your provision throughout quarantine. For the ways you have provided for people who have lost jobs, for miraculous healings, and for those who have come to know you through this time of crisis. Thank you that we can have confidence in your power and your goodness — each of those elements being weak on their own, but because you embody both of them we are infinitely blessed. A powerful God without goodness or a good God without power are both meaningless. Thank you that we can have confidence in both your ability AND your love for us.
I pray that you would continue to pour out your blessing on your church — not individual bodies, but the entire global body. I pray that we would come together and be strengthened and unified and show your love to a world that is lost. I pray that as you sent Christ as a blessing for the world, that we would turn around and richly bless those who do not know of your marvelous gift yet. I pray that you would open our eyes to those in need around us — those who are poor in material goods as well as lacking your spirit and that your love for them would flow through us in a supernatural way.
I pray for the leadership of the UAE. Lord, I pray for wisdom and knowledge for decision makers during this time when knowledge is in short supply. I pray that you would guide them and direct them, whether knowingly or unknowingly, into a path that suits your purpose. I pray that you would reveal your strength, goodness, and mercy to them, that their eyes would be open to your GRACE. I pray they would understand that salvation isn’t something to be earned, but has already been provided through your act of love toward us.
As Psalm 46 says: “Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” I pray that through these months that you would be exalted in all the earth. I pray that we would be patient as we wait for that day to come. I pray for daily patience as we must be still in a literal sense — restricted from work, from movement, from friends, from travel. I pray that this time would be redeemed. That it wouldn’t be something to be endured, but to be treasured. I pray that growth would happen through this time of isolation and hibernation. That our roots would be strengthened and that we would be storing up for the next phase of growth that is to come.
Jeremiah 17: Blessed is the woman who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. She is like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.
I pray that in this time of drought, that our roots would continue to deepen, to seek living water, and continue to bear fruit. May those around us be amazed at that impossibility and be drawn to you as a result.
Father as we are stronger together, I pray that we would be able to meet in person as congregations soon. You created us for relationship with you and with one another and I pray that we would be able to meet as a healthy and strong body. That you would wipe out disease and sickness and erase fear from those who are burdened by worry. I ask for a time of community, with rejoicing and singing your praises for all you have done for us. As things stand here locally, that would take a miracle. I ask for a miracle Lord and praise you in advance for how you are moving and making a way for your church.
Lord I pray for those who are at the end of their rope. They have nothing left to hold onto. Even those who know you who feel that you are far away from them. I pray that you would make your presence known, that you would lift the cloud that surrounds them and give them hope. Please intervene in those situations where people have lost their jobs and are desperate. I pray that no one would lose their life over this — that you would stand in-between them and trouble and protect them when the enemy attacks.
I ask that you work to remove the virus completely from this planet. It has invaded every continent and every city — whether physically or with the reverberations of fear that have left no-one untouched. I ask that it would be stopped, that the disease would be reversed, that all the side effects remaining with those who have been sick would disappear. Thank you Lord for being a God who hears our requests and . . . “praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits — who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion . . .” (Ps. 103) Amen.
Today is Camille’s birthday — always the official start of our summer. Usually we’re packing or in the air or recovering from jet lag. Camille likes to time the flight to fly on her birthday so she can have the longest birthday ever . . . we leave here early on the 22nd, fly 17 hours and land in CA and it’s still the morning of her birthday so she gets double the celebration time.
But this year we’re not going anywhere. And I’ll preface this by saying that while I may complain in the following paragraphs, I know that I have more than my share of things to be thankful for and I’m ridiculously grateful to have small problems. However, I don’t do illogical well and my American is showing in my list of grievances.
First, hello Corona! You just smacked the heck out of 2020. I actually blame Corona and social media because you would think that with a global pandemic that shut down the entire world and kept us restricted to our homes for over 3 months, that I would know more than 2 people who got sick . . . but I don’t. I know a handful of people who were asymptomatic that tested positive (as they are testing everyone here who stands still long enough to get a swab up their nose), but they all went on to retest negative twice. False positive? Excellent immune systems? We have no idea. I think if this virus had hit a decade ago it would have swept through without warning and we’d have had a really nasty flu season and then it would have passed before everyone figured out what hit us. I love information, but I’m finding that too much information is just as dangerous as not enough.
Because the name of the game here is “better safe than sorry” and “stay home, stay safe” we have been in virtual lockdown since the beginning of March. School cancelled, strict quarantine to homes from 10pm to 6am (at least it’s 10pm rather than 8pm now), Josh working from home from March 20th . . . all the basics. People under 12 and over 60 not allowed anywhere, including grocery stores, so my senior friends have resorted to hair dye and walking briskly to stock up on food, hoping they don’t get carded and sent home. We’re all in this together, right?
But for the past month, as the rest of the world is going back to normal, our little city has turned inward. It started with a citywide lockdown, forbidding people to cross the borders of the city limits, guarded by police checkpoints. Each time a new policy is announced, (weekly, but lately it’s been daily revisions) people scramble to understand it, jump through hoops to comply with it, and then give up in exasperation. For example, originally the lockdown announcement said people in vital sectors could cross the border to go to work in Dubai (doctors, pilots, etc), but in reality those people either got turned back at the border and haven’t been able to work all month, or they got across one time and now are stuck in a neighboring city, unable to return home to their family and are having to pay for a hotel room, clothes and food for the past 3 weeks. (And they just announced another extension — until June 30th. Inshallah that will be the last one.)
The city lockdown is why we had to hire a driver to take Carter to the Dubai airport last week. About 48 hours after the announcement, they clarified that if you had a plane ticket you could cross, but only the person with the ticket. Maybe . . . some people reported being able to cross back over with a copy of the plane ticket, others said even taxis couldn’t cross. The lack of transparency and clarity on all of this is probably the worst part of it all.
Meanwhile, Dubai opened its malls to people of all ages (unless you are over 70), gyms have opened, waterparks have opened, beaches are open . . . other than masks, life is basically normal. There is free movement around the entire country except for our little city.
Malls and restaurants in Abu Dhabi have been open for a few weeks, but only for people over 12 and under 70 (it was 60 until 5 days ago). That means Camille (and anyone over 60) can’t go anywhere — not the grocery store, not the mall, not out to eat. And when it’s over 100 degrees even at 9pm at night, inside areas are where it’s at.
So we sit at home, while 60 minutes away, it’s life as normal. And as a teaser, they announced this past week that now anyone can leave Abu Dhabi, but they need to apply for a permit to come back. No one has gotten a permit to come back. Well played, AD. Basically a Hotel California situation, but in reverse.
They announced our infection rate from all the testing is less than 1%, the lowest in the UAE, so I guess they want to keep us in our little bubble? It’s especially unfortunate for the many people who live in one city and work in the other — logically this isn’t sustainable long term (though I wouldn’t have thought it was sustainable for a month, and yet, here we are).
The latest head game is we’ve been told that there are new freedoms for travel (HA! We can’t even leave the city yet, but whatever, lay it on us). They are promoted as expansions of freedom, but there’s a new system to apply for approval from the government for travel, mandatory testing before leaving and upon returning, and a list of countries that people are allowed to travel to. The US isn’t on that list. Neither is the UK. Of course now is the season when most expats from these countries typically travel home for the summer to see their families and that news did not go over well. It’s also unclear if the local government can actually restrict a citizen from returning to their home country . . . all these questions with no answers.
Of course a few days after that announcement messages go out warning against listening to “fake news” and a new version is published that only requires registering to leave, not permission, no restriction of countries and quarantine only if you test positive for COVID. People celebrate, but it’s possible that that these freedoms only apply to residents of Dubai . . . ? People’s heads explode as Dubai announces resuming travel for residents on June 23rd and the return of tourists on July 7th — hello, don’t forget about Abu Dhabi! Josh was joking with his US colleagues that they may be able to fly into Dubai, but might not be able to get to the office in Abu Dhabi for work meetings. Nobody knows.
And I’m done talking about it because you wouldn’t believe it if I told you. This morning we woke up to a whole new set of guidelines that are more similar to the “fake” restrictive ones, supposedly overriding all the previous announcements, and nobody knows which way is up. People who have tickets to fly out over the next few days are crossing their fingers and headed to the airport hoping they’ll be able to fly because even the airlines don’t know which policies are in effect from day to day and how to enforce any of it. Blessed are the ignorant because they haven’t gotten whiplash from all of this over the past few weeks.
I’m happy we aren’t planning to travel anytime soon, but my irritation at being treated like a second class emirate continues to burn. I don’t even like going to Dubai, but it’s like living in Oakland and being told you aren’t allowed to cross the bridge to San Francisco or through the tunnel to Walnut Creek — meanwhile life is going on as normal in those cities. Of course in this world, being protected and provided for by the government is a blessing, so there’s a host of people who love the restrictions because it means they are being kept “safe.” My American spirit chafes at that.
Even though this post sounds like a big old whine, I’m writing it down because someday I’m going to look back on this and laugh. It’s classic Middle East and I can’t wait to see what sort of impossibility is announced next.
And in real life news, Carter made it to America, loved spending the week with his Aunt, Uncle, and cousins in Chicago, and now is in California with his brother. He goes to enlist in the Navy officially in 2 days (Wednesday) and will message me after to let me know what his job will be and when he ships out. He is thriving with all this freedom and even boot camp will seem less restrictive after living over here.
