I always wanted a dog, but my stepfather was allergic. My husband grew up with basenjis in the 50's in New Bedford MA. They never showed, just had them as pets. They did everything wrong– let them run loose, bred them without planning, but he had great stories about them, particularly one girl named Congo.
His family had a rescue B named Rusty, who was a great character (also loose, but luckily a homebody) when I met him in the 70's. I liked Rusty's aloof confidence, and got my first B in 85-- Kenji. He was backyard bred-charming but turned very dominant and difficult at adolescence, but we worked with and had him until he was 13.
We got our second dog from Matahari B's, and Caddie was a tricolor sweetheart for 15 years.
Now I've got the gentlest, most outgoing B I've ever met. Sol was raised by someone else, and they did a great job-- thanks Eldorado!
I adopted him at 5, and after a few weeks of thinking about it, he decided to stay (he jumped the fence twice, but came when I called the second time). He's my best friend, and even goes to work with me in the winter. And sometimes I wonder if he's really a basenji, because he wags his tail so much-- but only for me.
