Aslan and Kangal (that was the name he was given in Turkey) lived happily on the jobsite in a big (30'x30') fenced, concrete floored kennel with two big dog houses and service from the various workers on the site given the responsibility of feeding the dogs and cleaning out the kennel. I started working with them on leashes at about 6 months, just to spend some time with them. Kangal was the alpha dog, not very affectionate and not very responsive. Aslan was a teddybear, always eager to come over for a cuddle when someone approached to scratch him through the fence. In August '88 the construction manager left the project and did not make arrangements to take Aslan. By this time we had worked out how to import Science Diet dog food (in the containers of tires and spare parts we always had coming from the US) and I volunteered to pay for the next 800 pounds (well, they are big dogs and we wanted to deal in bulk!) So I became Aslan's unofficial owner.
I started looking for a good home for Aslan. I thought about returning him to his breeder, but as he was probably too old to learn how to be a working dog it seemed like a bad idea. As most Turks in the city live in apartments, there would be little room for an Anatolian so I discarded that idea. We were planning to buy a house after we returned to the US, but that might take six months - I didn't know what to do with him until then. I called my brother, who had a dog and a fenced back yard in San Jose; he offered to have Aslan there until we found a place. So we were set! Next came the business of exporting him, and concerns about what the US imposed as import conditions. I discovered that current shots were the only requirement from the US. I then started digging into the matter from the Turkish end, knowing that my only hope would lie in having the customs veterinarian decide that Aslan was not a pure-bred Kangal. That part was easy - the vet looked at him and dismissed him immediately. Wrong color (reddish tawny) and missing two white paws (only his front paws are white.) So we decided that "Choban Kopegi" or "shepherd dog" would be the best description for him.
Now I was in a bind. Aslan's brother had once been pulled off a plane and kept at the airport because of the whim of a customs guard, and the customs vet was located miles away from Esenboga airport. I called in the next wave of help - one of my Turkish friends. Berdan had a long conversation with the customs vet, then the manager of customs for Esenboga. I asked her to get the manager's home phone number so I could call him from the airport if I had any problems with his guards. As my Pan Am flight was leaving Esenboga Airport at 6:30am, he undoubtedly told all the staff at the airport to let that stubborn American woman with the big dog onto the plane so he could sleep! as I had no problems at all in departing. We flew from Ankara to Istanbul, Frankfurt, New York and San Francisco - a total of 27 hours en route. Aslan was a champion traveler. I got off the plane in Istanbul to see him, and he was terrified at that stage - so I opened the door to the kennel (very bad idea) and barely got it closed again as he strained to get out. The baggage handlers scattered like leaves before the wind - they were more terrified than he was. In Frankfurt I checked him again, and he was resigned and calm. Next stop, New York - and finally I gave him some water, though he wouldn't eat. Someone had stuffed a piece of candy through the bars of the door, but he hadn't touched that either. I stopped his drinking after about 3/4 liter - he was going to burst otherwise. I fell asleep in my seat before we took off and woke up as we were landing in San Francisco (the woman next to me was amazed.) Aslan appeared but had to stay put until I could get a rental car, which I did post-haste. When I returned I wheeled the kennel out the door, opened it and barely got a leash on the poor guy as he zoomed past me to get to a tree - which I am sure has since died of nitrogen poisoning. I can't believe he held it for 27 hours, but he refused to mess that kennel. I never worried about his housetraining again.
So that's how he came to be an American Anatolian. photos on this page, by Nancy Lane and Janice Frasche |
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