Straight from Spain
Spain update June-July 2010Men's history part 2
Saturday 26th June 2010
In spite of a hectic week, in which we had to finish the magazine at all costs (making days of 16 to 17 hours), while Dirk had to photograph four celebrities for "De Smaak van", our van had to go into the garage for the usual pre-trip check. We also had to reserve a day to go shopping with our mother (in-law) and the flooring that came from Nancy Op De Weerdt had to be cleaned. We had an appointment with the Zottegem ladies and had to take some of my dogs to "tata Marianne", because I really couldn't cope with 13 greyhounds all on my own. And then there was a doctor's appointment to be kept. On top of that, three dogs came back last week - two because the owner had begun to show signs of (holiday) arthritis. Maybe I should show her my X-rays! And young Shumy was returned because he had been digging in the garden. In spite of the fact that a barbecue had been planned for this afternoon and Chris the chef is collecting mum, Dirk decided yesterday he wants to leave tonight instead of tomorrow night, so that he has an extra day in Spain to catch his breath... which he badly needs to do, because since he and Rudy managed to do a 3,500 km trip - a 'load and deliver' and an Adoption Day in only five days - he has had to reluctantly admit that he was tired for days afterwards.
So when my husband, in spite of the presence of his mother-in-law - who kept telling him to take it easy - he just took time to eat and then continued to help with the preparations for sending out the magazine, printing more than 2,000 stickers and then the invitations for the barbecue in Rumes. The preparation of the envelopes for other countries had to be finished, as well. They'll be sent out by the magazine team on Tuesday. In spite of all that and some other urgent matters, I managed to persuade Dirk to have a little nap before Chris and my mother left... although I don't know how much he actually slept…
Just like last time, he hasn't managed to get away at the proposed time, after all. And again like last time, he has a shower and gives me endless instructions about what I should do and shouldn't forget and where everything is for the magazine. As if I've never sent out a magazine before. Then Dirk goes out to re-check the load in the van, which consists of the rubber flooring that he and Chris spent two days cleaning, and boxes full of medical equipment from Anneke Van Cauter.
Around 9 p.m. Claire arrives to drop off Dirk's co-driver. After the good news that Cleopatra has been adopted and a slightly forced 'pep talk' which is part of every goodbye, it's time to leave. We tell each other once again to be careful and, two weeks after the Adoption Day of 12th June, Dirk and Raymond set off again for the return trip to Spain.
When they drive out of the gates - Princess Loulou of Galgoland between them (of course) - my heart aches. I keep staring after the van, followed by the red Clairemobile, and think of the long 1,700 kilometres that lie ahead of them.
I phone at midnight, and hear they're just on the busy ring road around Paris. At 4.30 a.m. they are 250 km from Le Muret, where they plan to have breakfast. Although I haven't phoned ahead I'm sure it won't be a problem...
Sunday 27th June 2010
It is exactly 7.30 a.m. when Dirk calls that they're standing in front of a closed door at Le Muret. The crowded car park, the confetti... it looks as if there's been a party. Because it's still pitch dark inside, Dirk doesn't expect the breakfast bar to open any time soon, so all they can do is drive on to the Aire de Bidart, near the Spanish border. I curse myself for not having emailed Le Grandgousier but comfort myself with the thought that under the circumstances it still wouldn't have guaranteed them a tasty breakfast…
An hour later Dirk phones me while having his breakfast coffee, and tells me he was approached at the aire by a policeman on a motorbike, who asked him if he was carrying more than 10,000 euros in cash. When Dirk explained he had no more than 1,000 euros on him, at the most, the policeman told him he knew about our organisation and wouldn't disturb him any more.
Raymond and Dirk take turns in telling me how they get on on the hot but quiet Spanish motorways. Thanks to the quiet, the van is making good progress. They only stop when it's absolutely necessary and I know my husband well enough to realise what he considers a necessity...
At 3 o'clock, Dirk phones and asks me: 'Guess where we are!' The barking in the background speaks for iself. For the second time today, they are standing in front of a closed door, in this case a gate. Apart from the Bolivians, who do not intend to interrupt their siesta, none of the ladies is around. Dirk, who wants to drop off the rubber tiles (which weigh about 900 kilos) as quickly as possible, doesn't want to wait and starts unloading with Raymond.
Three hours later, they skype me with the news that since their arrival at Casa Belgica, Salva and Anabel have turned up and told them proudly that Salva has become a grandad of Lucia and that Marie-Carmen and Pili Peter have brought in a mistreated saluki. Peter, a seven-month old galgo that was found in the street, looks like a walking skeleton according to Dirk, and the saluki bitch that has been badly beaten doesn't know where to hide, she is so scared. Two minutes later Dirk shows Peter, who does look like a bag of bones, and the saluki - or something that should be a saluki - in front of the camera.
When Marie-Carmen and co. arrive, with a frozen lasagne, for lack of chicken, I leave the men to their well-earned dinner.
Dirk phones me back after just a few minutes: there's a small problem! Neither of them knows what to do with frozen lasagne or how to make a salad. While Dirk complains that his companion can't cook, Raymond bravely tackles the microwave. There's a problem for you: two healthy eaters who can't cook!!
Before he goes to bed, Dirk skypes one last time and tells me that, thanks to my instructions, they have managed to produce an edible lasagne and a reasonable salad. Before we say goodnight, he yawns: 'We'll be eating out tomorrow'.
Monday 28th June 2010
It is not yet 9 a.m. when Dirk phones for the first time. I ask if they have been barked awake by the 'boys next door' and sister Lucia, but their answer is not as funny as I expect. When they got up, they found Peter in a terrible state. The poor boy couldn't get up on his feet and doesn't want to eat or drink. Marie-Carmen has been alerted, but the local vet is on holiday and they can't count on help from 'next door'.
Louis, who does the blood tests, has been phoned, but he's operating in Fuenlabrada, a few villages away. Because it's their best option, they leave to take Peter to Louis. Then they go out to eat and do some shopping at Xanadu, where Raymond will have to buy a present for Claire.
That afternoon, Dirk tells me that Peter is back home. Louis has administered plasma and fluids, but he isn't sure what to think. Now Peter is in the clinic, on a drip. When I ask for a prognosis, Dirk shakes his head. According to the vet, he has simply suffered too much, he has no more strength left. But he may have a very slight chance. I tell them Peter just HAS to make it and think of the first photos I saw of him - a heap of misery in a cruel world. I repeat that Peter HAS to make it... and feel tears welling in my eyes.
Dirk promises he'll keep me informed. He is as good as his word and phones me regularly. In the meantime, he and Raymond throughly clean the van. Even the ceiling is scrubbed. Then they cool off in the swimming pool, Raymond in trunks that still date from when he was courting Claire. Later that evening, I can see those trunks with their 'gold' chain and leather trim in all their glory on Skype. I'm almost blinded by the sight! Luckily, Dirk tells me that Peter seems a little bit better.
At midnight, we say goodnight. Peter is still the same.
Tuesday 29th June 2010
I'm in the bathroom when I hear the skype for the first time. I rush downstairs, but it's too late. I wonder what Dirk wants to tell me this early in the day, but really, I know the answer. Ten minutes later he confirms my fears: during the night, Peter has decided to go looking for a new life beyond the rainbow. In the shower, my tears mix with the lukewarm water. Be happy, poor dog. One day, we will meet.
At 11.30 a.m. Claire arrives for her weekly secretarial duties. Today, they will be slightly different, because the magazines have to be prepared. Early in the afternoon, Kenneth, Claire's son and our personal courier, arrives with the result of our past weeks' work. As usual, I take a good look at the new copy and as usual, I hate my picture in the hall of fame.
At 3 p.m. the first members of the magazine team arrive and within half-an-hour, the deep voices of Raymond, Gilbert and Kenneth terrorise our ear drums. Chantal, Claire, Gerda and Claire's daughter Muriel, who are teased by the men, give as good as they get. Magazine day is going ahead at full steam!
Just when Dirk phones to check the 'staff', Chris arrives to get his orders: he's the one who will post the magazines. Everybody converges around the skype and Raymond's swimming trunks are widely admired. His son and daughter are quite impressed with the 'sexy beast' that is their father. Even Marie-Carmen is more involved than usual.
When we've finished admiring Raymond's trunks Dirk wants to show everybody the saluki bitch. She is widely admired when she does her screen test. She still doesn't have a name.
Belen and Dimitri drop off Sorte at Casa Belgica, and two hours later we get the story of how that went... Loulou, who is a real nymphomaniac, was delighted with Sorte's arrival and started covering him in kisses. Bernardineke, who is part of the kitchen team, by Loulou's grace, turned out to be jealous and started to attack the handsome young man. But Loulou, who is not at all impressed by the size of her disciple, would have attacked Bernardineke, if three men hadn't held her. When Dirk tells me, he is obviously still impressed by our angy man-eater.
It is not yet 8 p.m. when the first members of the magazine team set off home. Chris, who doesn't want to make any mistakes, phones Dirk again. Dirk has just finished putting the van together again with Raymond, and is starting the evening meal: cold pasta with cheese and tuna, plus a salad. They're getting better!
Half-an-hour later, Chris drives out of the gate with some 2,000 magazines on board. I'm exhausted, but really happy that once again we've done it. And even more happy when I think of all the people who have helped me.
I'll make one last phone call.
Wednesday 30th June 2010
When I start up my PC at 8.30 a.m., there are four emails from Dirk already waiting. Before I have time to open them all, the skype goes and a few seconds later I am eye-to-eye with my husband. In the background I see Raymond, in blue shorts and bare chest. Bad luck for Marie-Carmen…
The emails are about new requests for adoptions which have come to Dirk through the on-line adoption forms. Several of the candidates, after reading our appeal, have deliberately chosen a black one.
Unfortunately for the dogs and the adopters this trip is fully booked and they will have to be patient until the end of August or beginning of September, when we'll be able to venture out onto the motorways again. It's my task to tell them that...and I know from experience it's not a pleasant task. Hopefully they'll be prepared to wait, sigh...
While Dirk and co. are busily preparing everything in Spain for the trip home and while Bernardineke and the saluki - which I think is a borzoi cross - are bathed and a beautiful black galgo pup is made ready at the last minute, here back in Belgium the magazines are being posted off.
After that, I have to go shopping with Chris, because since his wife left him, he wants my advice about everything - but then, what are friends for?
When we go into an exclusive design shop in the centre of Ghent, we are welcomed by a small Yorkshire terrier. While I cuddle the dog, the lady says it belongs to her mother who has gone to sheltered accommodation and that she wants to get rid of it. If I want to, I can take it. Which, of course, I do.
That's how, that evening, Chris not only takes home two pairs of new shoes... but also a Yorkshire terrier! In De Pinte, she almost has a heart attack, when she sees my home front of six. All I can hope is that Chris will succumb to her charms. We'll have to wait and see...
When I tell Dirk the story - who says he's phoned me at least 20 times - he doesn't believe me at first. Fair enough, who would!
At midnight I send my husband to bed, for tomorrow they are starting on the long journey home...
Thursday 1st July 2010
From 8 a.m. I sit waiting for a phone call from Spain, because I've forgotten to tell Dirk he has to check the medicine stock and the rolls of sutures for Marianne, who is planning to come down with John in July or August to sterilise the dogs. I don't want to phone myself - I know how annoying it is to be phoned while you're loading up.
Because he has promised to phone before he leaves, I feel fine until 9.30, but then, around 10, I'm beginning to worry something's gone wrong... and I decide to phone myself. When Raymond answers, I hear the sound of the van in the background. Surprised, I ask why they haven't left yet, he answers innocently: "We've been on the road for half an hour." So he gets told off instead of Dirk.
When Dirk phones, two hours later, I'm still angry, and tell him again it's not on to leave without phoning me, making me feel so worried. Especially since he puts half of Belgium on alert whenever he can't reach me. An hour later, I get a mail from his iPhone: 'I love you'. I write back: 'Me too'.
Around lunchtime, Chris, GINB chef who has been a friend for almost 30 years, comes to pick up my 'show off car' for its MOT. When he arrives with Little Miss Yorkshire in his arms, I can tell that they've had a good night together. He tells me she lay by his side the whole evening and all night and that she was jealous of his 'Italians'. When I ask what her name is, he says "Fifi," but adds, with a clear lack of convinction: "But I can't keep her, you know...". I stroke her head and we look at each other. Her clever eyes tell me that she isn't so sure about that, and neither am I. Women feel these things, men don't, so we just have to make it clear to Chris - and I can tell she's well on the way to doing that. I hope she succeeds.
While Chris goes off for the MOT, she stays with me. It's uncanny to see how she knows me after only one day. She sits on my lap, staring me in the eye for minutes without blinking, then gives me kisses, as if she knows she's been lucky and wants to thank me. During our tête-a-tête I give her some advice, which she immediately puts into practice when Chris returns and she keeps circling him, whining softly. "Who could resist that?" I ask him. It obviously flatters his ego, because he picks her up gently and cuddles her. Over his shoulder I wink at her: it's almost in the pocket, girl.
As soon has Chris has left, I contact Dirk to tell him that my car is fine. Which, really, is not so surprising, since there are only 4,000 kilometres on the clock, after five years. I don't want to get rid of the car because I know that one day, I'll drive again.
The rest of the day, I get emails and phone calls, always with the same message: "It's sweltering here!!!!"
Even with only 38 dogs on board, it is nearly 40 degrees in the van, so they have to stop from time to time to open the doors and give the dogs a drink. Bernardineke in her fur coat has the hardest time of all and she uses up half the oxygen in the van. It's a trip from hell for everybody, but the end is in sight. This is their last ordeal They're on the road to happiness, I hope.
All day long I keep thinking of them, hoping it will be cooler soon. When Dirk calls at 9 p.m. it is still 30 degrees in the van. The later the phone calls come in, the cooler it has become. "Another 650 kilometres and we're there," says the eternally cheerful Raymond. He should be cloned! He is so special, always positive, always friendly and, like his Claire, always ready to help. Dirk is lucky with his co-drivers.
Tomorrow, big Dirk is coming with Danish pastries.
Around 4 o'clock they're expected at Marianne's, where Bernardineke will be unloaded and brought to her adoptive parents in France by Anne. How lovely is that. Soon they'll be home. But then we'll have to wait until the Pillowrijn opens its doors at 10 a.m., when the dogs can be let out...
At 12.28 a.m. I phone for the very last time. Dirk will be doing the driving and they are only 300 kilometres from home, near Paris. Another few hours and they'll be home.
Friday 2nd July 2010
It's 5 a.m. when I wake up. I'm convinced I've heard something, so I leap out of bed.
I'm obviously mistaken, because apart from a few early birds who greet the day with a happy song, everything is quiet. Now that I'm up anyway, I might as well let the dogs out. Just when I shout: 'Do a pee!' , the headlights of the van light up the driveway. As soon as they hear the van, their reluctance to get out of bed that early disappears and all the dogs rush to the gates in the back garden to welcome Dirk and Co. They're not the only ones who are happy. When Dirk and tumble out of the van, sweaty, dusty and tired, I send up a little prayer of thanks.
After only two short hours, their 'night's sleep' is over. I arrive in the kitchen at 8 a.m., in full war paint, and find big Dirk, who has quietly come in with the Danish pastries and is making coffee. What luxury!
Straight after breakfast, big Dirk and Raymond leave for the Pillowrijn to prepare the kennels. Dirk and I follow fifteen minues later.
When we arrive at the Pillowrijn, the arrival team has found shelter from the red-hot sun. I want to free the dogs as quickly as possible and keep bothering everybody, telling him to hurry up. The patient galgos have been in the van for 24 hours and every extra minute is one too many for me.
The team know my impatience to get the van unloaded, and luckily, they understand. They know that once the dogs are able to run around, I'll be my usual 'charming' self again.
It's a very exhausting day for everybody. We sweat buckets, but at 11 a.m., all the dogs have been fed and watered and are sitting quietly in the kennels.
While we cook the chips, the first 'Friday adopters' arrive. First the Mariën family, whose mother is deeply in love since she saw Ralf on the website. Today is the day she'll finally see him. Black Monti and old black Tere are going home as well. The rest of us will have to wait until tomorrow.
At the last minute, our saluki-borzoi-galgo is housed as well, for in the space of time that Christel has helped unload her and take her to the meadow, she has managed to steal the heart of Mrs. Huybrechts. After a few phone calls to Peter, who suspects me of being part of a plot - how dare he! - a very happy Christel is allowed to take 'Baba au rum' home with her.
At home, Dirk, Raymond and Kenneth load the van for tomorrow, and Caporal, who will now be called Aslan, is collected from our home by a family from De Pinte. Their little girl is absolutely delighted with her extremely beautiful, extremely sweet dog, who is more than worthy of the name Aslan.
After that, we desperately need some peace and quiet. Peace, to me, means continuing the update, and to Dirk, checking the contracts for tomorrow.Around 5 p.m. Chris the chef comes to collect the bags of food for the dogs, which were not delivered to the Pillowrijn in time.
He holds Fifi in his arms. She's over the moon to see me.While she's sitting on my lap, like yesterday, she looks at me for a long time, very intensely, and gives me a few kisses. Then she returns to Chris and jumps up at him. She's okay, she's stolen his heart. She can stay.
I am sooooo happy. Dirk, too, is pleased, but angry at the same time that anybody can so easily say goodbye to such a sweet little dog after eight years. But her new home will be her forever home, because 'daddy' Chris is crazy about her. Life has a funny way of working out.
After Chris leaves, a thunderstorm gathers outside. Loulou hides behind the settee and I go outside. A few minutes later, I'm stand in my underwear in the pouring rain. Dirk comes to have a look, shakes his head and says: "Good thing people can't see you!" and adds: "Be careful of your neck!".
I don't listen and stretch my arms to the sky, feeling the rain stream over my body.
Saturday 3rd July 2010
As usual, Chantal picks me up at 10 a.m. Dirk left two hours ago to put down the wooden floor, set up the tents, arrange tables and chairs, prepare the shop and the food stand and transform the Pillowrijn canteen into an office-cum-photo studio-reception room. He will also make sandwiches, clean out the kennels, let the galgos out and feed them, prepare the car park and a whole lot more! Lots to do. Luckily, we have a fantastic team and everything goes like clockwork. They're always ready to help, summer and winter, come rain, come snow. I can't thank them enough and they deserve lots of praise.
The adopters can see it, too: many of them come over and congratulate us on the great way everything's been organised.Half-an-hour later we arrive at the Pillowrijn, where a VIP spot has been reserved for us by grey Dirk, whom we call Grey of GINB. We're very happy, because the car park is full already.
I give each of 'my' ladies and gentlemen a final kiss... and we get to work.
The office-cum-photo studio is like a sauna. It's terrible. The heat is trapped inside and there's no ventilation. After half-an-hour even our shoes are soaking and everybody is panting. Even the adopters, who only have to be there for 20 minutes to have their photo taken, sign the contract and receive their passport, are relieved when they can dash outside again and get some air.
But everybody is happy, very happy! Me too, because I have a good feeling about this group of new adopters.
When the last contract is signed, another thunderstorm breaks loose and the heavens open.
The adopters leave as quickly as they can and we take down the tents and dismantle the floor. In spite of the fact that the 'co-ordinator' is away on holiday with his wife, daughter and dogs, everything has gone well. He can be proud of his team...
We all enjoy the pouring rain and instead of "singing in the rain" we practise "drinking in the rain". When Peter the photographer raises his glass in a toast to his latest new housemate, I have fun... he's still sure I had something to do with it.
Everybody goes off home through the driving rain. We have Princess Loulou of Galgoland and the black puppy on board. At home, the van needs to be unloaded, which I really don't fancy. As usual, Dirk, Raymond, Gilbert, Chantal and Claire work like the troopers they are.
At 5 p.m., Dirk is dozing over the Germany-Argentina match. Loulou, too, and the galgo pup are asleep in a basket and the rest of the dogs are happily stretched out on settees. I look at them, and love what I see. I want to say thank you to all the adopting families, to the adopters who especially chose a black dog, and a great thank you, too, must go to the whole GINB team..and finally a thank you to all you readers of the update.
Thank you for your friendship, loyalty, support and hard work. I can't say it often enough.
Mireille.
