The Dogfather

When we first came here, we were greeted by three dogs. Vangelis, Harry and a black pup. We knew about the dogs from the previous tenants. We knew they would attack the tires on our car, but that they would be excellent guard dogs. The previous tenants even left us some dog food in the outhouse, in order to befriend the dogs.

Vangelis is the leader of the pack, a huge, ugly looking, viciously barking, tire biting son of a bitch. Literally. Harry has bad hips, but overcomes his handicap, managing to be Vangelis’ right paw dog.

At first, I was quite afraid of the dogs, except the puppy, of course. Then, one day, I went to take out the trash. The trash bin is outside the “tsoloridi”, beyond an electric gate. I felt safe on my side of the gate, even though the dogs could easily go through it. Venturing outside was a marvelous feat for me, as I’m very much afraid of dogs. You might think that this is how I learned to stop worrying and love the dog. But I cheated. I took some dog food with me and I bribed them, so as to leave me alone. I purposely submitted myself to extorsion, becoming a small time Dog Mafia pawn, taking the vig to the Dog Dons.

First contact was next. One evening, the dogs followed us and we decided to give them a little treat. We fed the puppy separately, because we didn’t want the Vangelis and Harry to bully him and steal his share.

We thought that perhaps this would improve our relationship, but we were confused when they jumped at our tires again. Dogs will be dogs, but above all, the Mafia would be nothing without enforcing it’s methods.

Then, on a dog day afternoon, as we were returning from Thessaloniki, I realized we didn’t have a name for the pup. So I called him Costas, although I never checked his gender. Being a bitch called Costas would really be a bitch, I guess.

The story evolves towards a positive outcome, it seems. We feed Costas almost every evening now and we’re tempted to adopt him, although he probably belongs to a neighbor. He’s big, probably about 3 months old and has huge paws. Right now he’s a small time Mafia dog, bulied by Vangelis the Don and Harry Bad Hips, but in a year’s time I expect he’ll be a made dog.  He’ll eventually take Vangelis down one day and become the Dog Don himself.

I’ll be honored if then he’ll consider me “a friend of ours”. Perhaps it won’t be necessary to bite my tires anymore.

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