04/13/07
Late last night I slipped out the back door of my house and quietly made my way to the waist high rail of the wooden deck, appreciatively drinking in the cool night air and starry sky. The lower than normal temperature had obviously caused the insects and other raucous creatures of the night to seek warmer shelter, and there was not the slightest air movement to stir a leaf or blade of grass. It was ominously quiet. The chill night air brought a tingle to my nostrils and slight gooseflesh to my skin. I was enjoying my quiet solitude when I unexpectedly detected movement to my right. Of course my reaction was to turn in the direction of the movement, but when I did I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then it happened again. Whatever it was was moving quickly across the yard, low to the ground. But, try as I might, I could not make out its shape. It glided smoothly and even though the night was so quiet I did not hear a sound from its movement. It came closer. I was beginning to absentmindedly lean toward the door as it drew nearer, and still I could neither hear nor tell what it was.
My tense body was beginning to turn toward whence it had come when it abruptly occurred to me. The shadow moving in my direction was my Great Dane, Savannah. I breathed an inner sigh of relief and smiled to myself at my childish imaginings. Relieved, I tried to continue watching her but it was not easy. Her coat is as black as an ex-wife’s heart, and the only glimpse of her I could get was when she would move past an area which was not as dark as she, and even then she appeared only as a formless shadow. She continued moving across the yard, head low, silently sniffing from side to side. She was after something and only she knew what it might be. My eyes gradually became accustomed to the low light and as I watched more closely I marveled at her grace and the power in her movement. Her thickly muscled 140 pound frame moved low to the ground. Starlight shown as shimmering highlights dancing on her ebony coat. Stealth was the word that came to my mind. As she moved past me I uttered her name in a low tone, but even though I know she heard she made no sign and continued on her quest.
Her earnest single-mindedness of purpose and the sleek strength of her movement brought to mind visions of her prehistoric ancestors. I came to see her as the ruthless feral hunter in search of prey. Since the strength of her jaws could easily snap a man’s arm, what might she do to an animal she required for food, or one foolish enough to attack her? It would be no contest. My respect for her grew as I stood watching.
It became more obvious she was searching something out. Her movements became furtive and the pace of her hunt quickened. I tried to imagine what it might be. What could have left behind its spore, and why was she so desperately searching for its whereabouts? She moved relentlessly, her nose mere inches from the ground. Back and forth she went, seeking…searching…hunting.
Abruptly she halted, frozen where she stood. Her head remained low and unmoving. She sniffed, then sniffed again. Had she found what she had been hunting? She posed, resembling a huge coal-black statue, unmoving, unblinking. I could see the thick muscles of her haunches begin to tighten in preparation for the attack. Her entire body tensed and I knew the moment of truth had arrived. She had found what she had been looking for.
She crouched, ready to spring. I saw her gather herself, take a deep breath, and after only a slight hesitation her tail raised and she proceeded to take a shit the size of a Volkswagen.
Once finished with her task, and having partaken of the mysterious but obligatory scratching at the ground with her hind feet (I've always wondered if that might be the canine equivalent of wiping), she breathed a long sigh of relief, jauntily bounded up the steps of the deck and stood at the door waiting for me to do what she had me trained to do, let her in. So, I let her in.
I guess sometimes you just have to focus on finding the right spot to do what you have to do.