Do you remember the first time you saw a basenji? Did you stumble across one by accident, fall in love with a friend’s basenji or see one at a dog show?
I can’t pinpoint exactly when I first saw a photo of a basenji, although the first time I saw real live basenjis was when we stopped at a breeder’s house and were surrounded by three to four month old puppies who crowded around us, nibbling my shoelaces and examining the design on my t-shirt. Eric grew up with basenjis so he was already under the spell. This was my first exposure to the magic, and I was smitten.
I delight in showing photos of our Munchkins. I love to tell about their charming personality quirks and, I confess, I enjoy the looks of disbelief when I tell about their especially endearing qualities, including the decimation of books and most forms of paper. I use the flimsiest excuse to pull out photos and tell about our amazing, intelligent, cat-like, graceful, enchanting, curly-tailed imps.
Our neighbors know us as the people with those little African dogs. It’s wonderful to walk down the street and overhear them tell visitors that our dogs don’t bark, and their tails “just come that way.” We smile and wave and continue down the street with our little African dogs with the naturally curly tails.