I was wandering around the Manama Souq looking for a suitable vendor from which to purchase beds for some friends imminent and much anticipated visit. In an alleyway I saw a woman sitting with whom I presumed was her offspring. The child was obviously suffering from borderline malnutrition, barely aware of its surroundings, skin and threadlike muscles sagging from it's bones. I observed, while passing, as she tried to slide bread into the child's mouth which was just a slack opening to a head lolling about in her arms.
I found exactly what I wanted, paid BD30 (£50) of the 60 I was carrying, went home and ate a meal of sundried tomato and oregano pasta in a red pesto sauce with a glass of freshly juiced mango, while waiting for the delivery of my acquisitions.
Two days ago I found a dog lying outside the office, protecting itself from the afternoon sun in the shade of our building. The animal was obviously suffering from borderline malnutrition, barely aware of its surroundings, skin and threadlike muscles sagging from it's bones. I went back into the office and took from the fridge the packet of sliced roast beef I had planned to make sandwiches from for the forthcoming weeks lunch. I threw the meat to the dog and cautiously it emerged from its shelter, sniffed the food and with a swift jerk of its head threw it down its throat.
The next evening, on my way home, I saw the same dog sniffing beside one of the many restaurant bins which pollute the afternoon air. As I reached out to pat its head, it turned sharply, snarled with a vehemence I'd never before witnessed in an animal and ran off.