I bought Noam at an underground slave trade auction in Morocco in 1984 for two pigs and a dead chicken. I kept him in what I thought was a rather lovely kennel for about six years before he knawed his way through the aluminum bars and escaped through the sewer pipes. I didn't see him again until a couple of months ago. He gave me $20, we called it even, and have been good friends ever since.

I met Noam only a short time ago. But each time I see him I become more and more aware of an unspoken bond (hopefully a two directional one!!). I can't explain it, but he feels like a brother to me. When I hug him hello (or just because) I feel like I've done it a million times before. And I know next to nothing about him. Time will change that.

My friend, I love you like the brother I never had. I have no idea why. Maybe you can tell me...

Focused,
sharp-eyed,
and ever-watchful,
you are supportive even in silence;

Noam,

I honour you,
your heartfelt guardianship
and your emerging wizardry;
thank you for your presence!!

=0)