In the meantime a friend of Jan had brought two of his farm workers to make hole where he was going to build his bio-gas plant. Jan is of course an expert on designing huge plants, and that then also makes up the bulk of jobs he gets. He had stopped working for the firm in George, as he wanted to stay at home, him being worried about Nina and the kids when I was in Scotland, as he could only come home over week-ends. He was still doing work for his old firm in Denmark, and he put himself up as a consulting chemical engineer, and got enough work from all over the world.
The next week-end was spent building up the hole with bricks and we were all very excited and could hardly wait for Jan to lay the neccesary piping to the house, and get the rest of the stuff and the thick plastic bag in which the gas is stored and then led to the house from there.
I was also excited, as Jan promised to make me a small bio-gas plant at my back door, by using the smallest water tank on the market, and apparently I could run this on my kitchen waiste.
The stuff he ordered took quite some time to come, and in the meantime life was going on, not always very happily, as the bally Moby was an expert at escaping, and could teach the great Houdini a trick or two! There was not one living sole in that little village that had not yet had an encounter with this dog that was now as big as a donkey, well, almost, and there was usually about ten people every day who came to show Jan their chewed up shoes, or a scrape on their, or on one of their children's bodies that was inflicted when floored, or is it grounded, by the huge dog, and the poor Jan looked more and more worried by the day. He was just about busy fulltime mending holes and hitting in the poles that he had gone to fetch at the co-op. Nothing deterred that dog, and it was just amazing how fast he could find another weak spot in the fencing after Jan thought that it would be a miracle if he managed to escape again, but he did!
It was a strange dog, as he really never bonded with anybody, and when he came home for short whiles to sleep and eat, he just lay down on the veranda and slept, of course after he had his fun with the family and other animals first, and had everyone up in arms.
We read up about Bloodhounds, and it is just a fact that they are not ideal for guarding you, neither do they make good pets, as the slightest interesting smell took them across country with their noses close to the ground, and from Moby's behaviour, we recognized the fact that he was just a normal, pure Bloodhound!
One morning I had just made my cuppa and got back into bed, as it was wet outside, when I heard Kevin Bacon going off, and it was so scary that I sommer legged it to his stye in my bare feet, and without a raincoat, as I thought that the poor porker was being murdered! Bizarre is not even the right word for the scene that met my eyes, as Moby, as nimble as deer, was gamboling all over the stye, smeared in mud, while Kevin, his mouth open in one long and lusty squeal, his redrimmed eyes fixed on the mad going dog, was ready for the kill! When Kevin saw me, he stopped for a moment, then bared his horrible teeth, and made a grab for Moby, and I think that at that moment it dawned on the silly dog that his life was in real danger! He gave a yelp like a small puppy, and tried to scramble through the hole he had made, but the pig was too fast, so I ran to get some feed and threw it over the fence to see if that would stop the raving porker! His attention away from the dog for a moment gave Moby time to scramble through, and he was so traumatized that he flopped down on his bedding and slept the whole morning before he started looking for another weak spot in the fencing!