We found ourselves talking to this guy and he said that the puppy was the runt of what was already a weak litter, but still he would give it a chance to fight for it's life. He had a kind of brutal understanding of nature, in the way that it refines itself by weeding out the weak and rewarding the strong. He wouldn't help the dog out of the water, but instead guided her up the rocks. He decided on a name for her that very night. "SKIM". In afrikaans it translates to 'foam', but also to 'spirit'. Skim was always fluctuating between life and death.
We discovered he's name, the man, to be Arthur. A noble name for the someone I would totally follow into battle. We talked for hours and were humbled and touched. I won't even attempt to do it justice by blogging it. All I can do is give credit to the profoundness of our experience, and hopefully show some of the wisdom we acquired in future posts.
Sholom