Caesar the War Dog

by Stephen Dando-Collins

  ‘No, this is a lucky dog,’ Haji said stubbornly.

  Meena intervened. ‘Father will know what to do with him,’ she said with confidence.

  That evening, their father, uncles, older brothers and cousins came in from the fields. Told of the new arrival, the children’s father, who was headman of the compound, came to view the strange brown dog. Tall, slim and bony, like most adult men of Afghanistan, he wore a dark beard on his face and a turban on his head. His name was Mohammad Haidari. With a scowl, he studied the brown dog. Caesar, meanwhile, a little restless, kept moving positions from being seated to lying down, then back again. This man was an adult Afghan man, and Caesar had never been completely at ease with adult Afghan men.

  ‘This is not an Afghan general’s dog,’ the children’s father pronounced.

  ‘It is not?’ said Meena, disappointed.

  ‘Look here, child,’ said her father, bending and grasping Caesar’s collar with its metal identification tag. ‘This is written in a foreign language. This is an outsider’s dog. And the only outsiders in our country with dogs are foreign soldiers. This is a foreign soldier dog.’

  ‘A soldier dog?’ said Haji, greatly impressed. ‘Then, could we perhaps keep it as a guard dog, Father? We need a new guard dog. And what better guard dog could there be than a soldier dog?’

  ‘A guard dog? This dog?’ Haji’s father laughed. ‘Boy, look at it. Has it barked once? I am a stranger to it, yet it has not barked at me. That is the job of a guard dog – to bark at strangers and warn the household. Watch me now.’ He held out his right hand to Caesar.

  ‘Be careful, Father, the dog may bite you,’ Nasir warned.

  The children’s father shook his head. ‘This dog will not bite me, Nasir.’ He continued to hold his hand under Caesar’s nose.

  Warily, Caesar sniffed the farmer’s hand. Then, he licked it, as if to say, Be my friend, mister.

  ‘You see,’ said the children’s father, withdrawing his hand with distaste and wiping it on his shirt. ‘This dog would only lick intruders to death.’ Nasir and some of the other older children laughed at this. ‘Such a dog would be useless as a guard dog,’ their father added.

  Nasir was smirking. ‘I told you so,’ he said to Haji and Meena. ‘You heard our father – this dog would be useless as a guard dog.’ Nasir turned to their father. ‘You should shoot the dog, Father, and beat Haji and Meena.’

  With that, the children’s father cuffed Nasir’s ear with the back of his hand. ‘Where is your respect, boy?’ he growled. ‘You do not tell your father what to do!’

  Nasir let out a pained cry.

  ‘Father,’ said Haji, ‘could we perhaps train this soldier dog to be a guard dog?’

  His father shook his head. ‘No, my little Haji. Such a dog cannot be trained to bark and bite. I have seen its like before. Such a dog will only wag its tail and eat our food. Get rid of it, Haji. Get rid of it, do you hear?’

  ‘How should I get rid of it, Father?’ Haji asked, clearly disappointed.

  ‘How did you come by it, boy?’

  ‘It just wandered into our kal, Father.’

  ‘Then make it wander out again, boy,’ said his father.

  ‘Father, could you not sell the soldier dog back to the foreign soldiers?’ said Nasir, trying to regain his father’s favour.

  But his father was a man who tried to steer a middle course in the war that gripped his country. And giving the dog back to the foreign soldiers might be seen in a bad light by the Taliban. ‘No, Nasir!’ he snapped. ‘Haji, do as I tell you. Get rid of the dog! And, all of you, prepare for dinner.’

  As their father strode off, the other children laughed at Haji and Meena, then hurried away to get ready for dinner as they had been instructed.

  Haji looked at Meena, then at Caesar. ‘Father did not say when I should make the soldier dog wander out again, Meena,’ he said, with a cheeky grin.

  Meena’s eyes widened. ‘You do not mean to keep the dog, Haji?’

  Haji nodded. ‘I will keep him for a little while. Perhaps we can train him to be a guard dog, and then Father will change his mind about him. You must help me hide the soldier dog, Meena.’

  Ben was lying in another hospital bed, this time back in Sydney, Australia. He gazed dreamily out the window to the distant ferries and sailboats on Sydney Harbour, thinking and worrying about Caesar. Sensing that he was not alone, he looked around. Nan Fulton stood in the doorway with Josh and Maddie at her side. Nan had dressed the pair in their best clothes, and was holding a big bowl of fruit – a gift for Ben.

  Both Josh and Maddie had shocked looks on their faces. Nan had tried to prepare them for the sight of their father with a heavily bandaged face, but the reality of that sight still rocked them. Between the bandages, Ben’s eyes peered out through one slit, while his lips, cut and swollen, protruded through another. Nan brought the children to Ben’s bedside.

  Ben tried to smile, but that only hurt. ‘Hey, don’t you two look great!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Daddy, can we kiss you?’ Maddie asked.

  ‘There’s nothing to kiss,’ Josh said, glumly. ‘He’s all covered with bandages. He looks like an Egyptian mummy.’

  ‘You can hold my hand, Maddie,’ said Ben, raising a hand that had been protected by his combat gloves during the battle. Maddie took his hand, then stood holding it, and wouldn’t let go.

  Fighting back tears, Nan set the bowl of fruit down on the bedside table. ‘I brought you some fruit, Ben.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘Does it hurt, Dad?’ said Josh, gazing at his father’s bandages and puffed lips.

  ‘Not a bit,’ Ben lied.

  ‘When are you coming home?’ Maddie asked.

  ‘Not for a while yet, sweetheart,’ Ben replied.

  ‘But you will get better?’ said Josh anxiously.

  ‘I sure will, mate,’ Ben replied. ‘These bandages will come off before long, and I’ll stop looking like an Egyptian mummy.’ He shifted, gingerly, to look at Josh. ‘The doctors tell me my face will be a bit messy for a while, but they’re going to tidy that up, and in the end I’ll look like new.’

  ‘It was the Taliban that did this to you, wasn’t it, Dad?’ said Josh. ‘It was on TV, how you and a lot of other Australian soldiers were in a big fight with them.’

  ‘It was a big fight,’ Ben agreed with a sigh. ‘You know that Charlie was badly hurt in that same fight?’

  ‘Our Charlie?’ said Josh, worriedly.

  ‘But Charlie’s not going to die, is he?’ said Maddie with concern.

  ‘No, princess, Charlie’s not going to die. But, from what I’ve heard, he won’t be able to walk. He’s in hospital over in Germany and could be there for a long time.’

  ‘He can’t walk? Oh.’ Maddie found the idea of big strong Charlie not being able to walk hard to come to terms with. ‘Not at all? Ever?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Ben replied.

  ‘And Caesar?’ said Nan. ‘What about him, Ben?’

  ‘Yes, where’s Caesar?’ said Maddie. ‘Will he be coming home with you, when you come?’

  Ben paused. He had been dreading this moment. ‘I’m afraid that Caesar is lost, Maddie, somewhere in Afghanistan.’

  Maddie was amazed. ‘Lost? Why?’

  ‘Yeah, how come?’ Josh echoed, with concern.

  ‘Wasn’t Caesar supposed to be looking after you?’ said Maddie.

  ‘He did look after me. Caesar helped save my life and a lot of other soldiers’ lives while we were over there. He even helped save Charlie’s life one time.’

  ‘How?’ Josh asked.

  ‘He grabbed hold of Charlie’s vest with his teeth, and dragged him into cover, after Charlie had been knocked out by an RPG blast.’

  ‘Whoa!’ Josh responded, impressed. ‘So, how come Caesar’s lost now?’

  ‘We were separated during the battle,’ Ben explained. ‘I kept an eye on him for as long as I could. In the end, in all the chaos of the battle
, he got left behind. I wanted the others to go back out looking for him, but they couldn’t.’

  ‘What will poor Caesar do all alone over there?’ Maddie asked. She looked like she was about to cry.

  ‘I think he’ll try to find his way back to Australian soldiers,’ Ben returned. ‘I hope he will.’ He gave Maddie’s hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘He’s clever, and brave. If any dog can find his way back, Caesar will.’

  ‘Poor Caesar,’ said Maddie sadly. ‘He must be very frightened.’

  ‘The general told me that every soldier in the province has orders to be on the lookout for him,’ Ben assured them all. ‘Caesar will turn up. I know he will.’

  ‘Yes, of course he will,’ Nan agreed, also trying to put on a brave face.

  ‘But we can play our part, too,’ said Ben, as an idea formed in his mind. ‘Josh, can you do me a favour? I want you to look for any information that might lead us to Caesar.’

  Josh frowned. ‘How do you mean, Dad? Where would I look?’

  ‘Online. There are government websites, news sites and podcasts. And then there’s the radio and TV. They might mention that a brown labrador has been sighted, here or there in Afghanistan. Somewhere, sometime, someone might make mention of a sighting of Caesar. While I’m stuck here in hospital, you can help search for news of Caesar from home, every day.’

  The responsibility suddenly seemed daunting to Josh. He looked worried. ‘But, what if I miss something?’

  ‘Don’t worry, son, the more you look, the more likely it is you’ll come across something.’

  ‘Your dad’s right, Josh,’ said Nan. She realised that not only did Ben genuinely want to find Caesar, he had another motive. A year back, Josh hadn’t been able to do anything to save Dodger, but now he could help save Caesar. It would be good for Josh, and Ben had recognised that it would give his son a cause to focus on while his father was in hospital. ‘Josh, we owe it to Caesar to do everything we can to track him down,’ Nan went on. ‘Caesar didn’t ask to be taken over there to Afghanistan, or to be left behind. We have to help him.’

  ‘Yes, we have to help Caesar!’ Maddie adamantly agreed.

  ‘And, Josh, you’re the master of the internet in our house,’ Ben added. ‘If anyone can find any mention of Caesar, you can. Will you do it every day, without fail, and report back to me?’

  ‘It’ll help your dad recover all the quicker, Josh,’ said Nan, ‘knowing that you’re on the job, looking for Caesar.’

  ‘Well …’ Still Josh hesitated, uncertain of himself.

  ‘Think of it as detective work,’ his father suggested.

  ‘Detective work?’

  ‘Yeah, detective work,’ said Ben. ‘Who knows what you’ll turn up?’

  ‘Do it for your dad, Josh,’ Nan urged, ‘as well as for Caesar. Go on.’

  ‘If it’s for Dad, as well as for Caesar, I suppose I could give it a try,’ Josh agreed.

  ‘Good on you, mate,’ said Ben, producing a painful smile.

  ‘I’ll help look, too, Daddy,’ said Maddie. ‘Josh and me, we’ll both be doggy detectives.’

  Back in Afghanistan, Caesar was being hidden by Haji and Meena in a storage shed in their kal. Every night after dinner, Haji would sneak out to the shed and feed a little meat to Caesar – meat that he secretly kept from the evening meal. Sometimes it was goat meat, sometimes it was mutton. Occasionally it was chicken. And Caesar would gratefully wolf down all the food that his new young friend brought him. Except for the time Haji brought him a ball of spiced rice – Caesar only sniffed that, then left it alone. Meena often came with Haji, and she also brought a clean cloth with which she and her little brother bandaged Caesar’s bloodied leg.

  During the day, whenever he had a spare moment, Haji would sneak into the shed to see Caesar and talk to him. ‘Soldier dog, you will make a fine guard dog,’ Haji said to him one day, sitting in front of him. ‘But you must learn to bark. Like this …’ Haji pretended to growl, and then bark, like a dog.

  With his head tilted to one side, Caesar looked at Haji as if to say, What are you doing, my new friend? You aren’t a dog.

  Not long after Haji left the shed, he bumped straight into his older brother Nasir.

  ‘What were you doing in that shed, Haji?’ Nasir demanded.

  ‘Er, Father told me to tidy it,’ Haji replied. It was no lie – his father had told him to tidy that shed … months before.

  ‘Did I hear a dog growl and bark?’ Nasir then demanded.

  ‘Oh, that was me,’ Haji replied, grinning cheekily. ‘We do not have a guard dog any longer, so I thought I could make the noises of a guard dog to scare away intruders. Like this …’ He growled and barked, as he had done in front of Caesar.

  Nasir shook his head and rolled his eyes. ‘What a stupid little brother you are, Hajera Haidari. You cannot be a guard dog. Or would you have our father chain you up outside all night to frighten away intruders?’ He laughed. ‘Now that I think about it, that would be a very good use for a stupid, annoying little brother.’ Laughing to himself, Nasir walked away. ‘I will suggest it to Father.’

  ‘I am not the stupid annoying brother in our family,’ said Haji, half to himself.

  For two weeks, Haji and Meena succeeded in keeping Caesar hidden from their father and from everyone else in their kal. But then, one night, Haji’s secret was discovered. Because he was the youngest boy in the family, it was Haji’s job to serve his father and all the older males at dinner every night, while Meena, the youngest girl, had to serve their mother and the other females. The men of the family ate in one room, and the women in another, as was the custom in Afghanistan. Dinner was a series of courses, usually various meats plus rice and vegetables. Haji would carry in plates loaded with one course or another from the kitchen and offer them to the diners one at a time. He would start with his father, the headman, then move to his uncles, then his brothers and cousins. If a male guest was visiting the kal, that guest would always be the first to be offered food. The diners, sitting cross-legged on cushions on the floor, would select food from the large plate and eat with their fingers. In the case of rice, they would roll it up into a ball to eat.

  As the waiter, Haji was able to steal a little extra meat from the plate as he was serving, slipping it into a pocket of his trousers. Later, he would take the meat to Caesar. This meat would soil his pocket, but when his sisters washed his trousers once a week, along with all the other clothes from the kal, none of them paid attention to this. But one night at dinner, Haji’s jealous brother Nasir happened to look up just as Haji, standing behind their father and uncles as they ate, slipped a piece of meat from the serving plate and into his pocket. Nasir frowned to himself at this odd sight, but said nothing. When the meal was over, Nasir watched Haji leave the room, then, suspicious of his youngest brother, followed him out into the night.

  Droning noisily in a shed away to Nasir’s right was a petrol-driven generator, which supplied a limited amount of electric power to their kal every night for cooking and light, and for radio or television broadcasts on special occasions. When everyone in the kal went to bed, it was one of Nasir’s daily chores to turn off the generator. Hanging back in a doorway, Nasir watched as Haji crossed the courtyard illuminated by the bright moonlight and disappeared around a corner.

  Hurrying to the corner, Nasir then peeked around it to see Haji walking toward a shed against the far wall. When Haji reached the door to the shed, he paused and looked back the way he had come, making sure he was not being watched. Seeing Haji stop, Nasir quickly withdrew back around the corner so Haji did not spot him. When Nasir looked back around again, Haji had disappeared inside the shed. Nasir quickly crossed the courtyard to the shed. And, putting an ear to the closed door, he heard Haji talking to someone inside.

  In the shed, Haji lit a candle then knelt in front of the sitting Caesar. ‘Here I am again, my friend,’ he said. Taking a piece of meat from his pocket, which bulged with the night’s food collection, Haji hel
d it high in the air. Caesar’s eyes were locked intently on the meat in Haji’s fingers, his front legs quivering with anticipation. But, as hungry as he was, he did not move. The well-trained labrador was waiting for his cue.

  ‘What must you do, soldier dog?’ said Haji. ‘What does a good guard dog do? Woof, soldier dog. Woof!’

  Caesar barked, but once only.

  Haji, knowing that the sound of the dog’s bark would not be heard at this time of night because it would be drowned out by the noise of the generator, smiled broadly. ‘Good, soldier dog,’ he said. ‘Again. Woof!’

  Again, Caesar barked.

  ‘Again. Woof!’

  Caesar barked a third time.

  ‘Very good, soldier dog.’ Haji held the piece of meat out to Caesar, who gently, politely took it from the boy’s hand and downed it. Behind Haji, the door suddenly burst open. With a gasp, Haji, still on his knees, swung around to see his brother Nasir standing in the open doorway.

  ‘So, Haji, I have caught you!’ Nasir declared, with a victorious grin on his face. He looked at Caesar. ‘You disobeyed our father and kept this dog. You are in trouble now, little brother. Wait until I tell Father!’

  ‘No, Nasir!’ Haji protested in sudden fear. ‘Do not tell him. Please!’

  But it was too late. Nasir was already running back to the living quarters to inform their father of his discovery. Feeling as if the sky was about to fall in on him, Haji looked back at Caesar, who barked, as if to say, Quick, give me the rest of the meat while you can. Seemingly picking up the dog’s message, Haji emptied his pocket and lay several more pieces of meat in front of Caesar, who quickly devoured them. Haji knew that it was pointless trying to run or hide. Getting to his feet, he moved over beside Caesar and sat down cross-legged beside him, then put an arm around the dog.

  ‘Together, soldier dog,’ Haji said with a sigh, ‘we shall await my father and my punishment.’

  Caesar responded by licking him on the cheek.

  And so the pair waited. It was not long before Nasir returned, bringing with him their father, uncles, brothers and cousins. Haji’s father had a fierce look on his face.