Original post: Saturday, January 17, 2009
Just remembering things now shadows but these were shadows of good things.
I slowly opened the sliding glass doors,
walked across the 20 foot completely screen-enclosed beautiful porch,
watching to make sure nothing had crawled in that I might step on and
feel slimy or crunchy or gooey under my bare feet. It was already so
warm out, and the sun hadn't risen. It was dark except for the "outside
light" my dad had put up when I was a little kid - a homemade
streetlight in the middle of the backyard, for all imaginative purposes.
There they were, at my heels for a second, then racing across the
porch in front of me. I could just hope there wasn't a lizard or
salamander or roach or frog near the door that the little one could snag
before I got there; I hated the foam that came or the guts I would have
to clean up or even the animal I'd have to watch die or try to kill to
end its pain. But for this time there was nothing.
I unlatched the little doggie door. Well, really, it was a couple
feet high, and I could easily climb through it with no problems
whatsoever. I closed it just so the bigger one couldn't come back in
before he'd done all he needed to; it seemed to me, he would much rather
sleep in a little later than 5am. Or at least he wanted to be with me,
one or the other, because he always came back in first.
There he was, peeing like a little girl dog. He never would hike! It
made me laugh. The other puppy was tracking something, probably
imaginary or something that had been gone for four hours. It didn't take
much to excite him, and I swore to his dying day he had always been
"mental." He was sooo very smart, though.
Finally, the bigger one, my dog, came in. He sat patiently by my
side for a moment, then took off toward the sliding glass door. Please don't bark, please...
I mentally begged. He was wagging his tail against the glass and
moaning, as if he had to take up strength to bark that early in the
morning. Just then, a cardinal flew right by my head, feet away only
because of the screen. This caught the attention of the little dog, who
instantly growled and let out a little disgusted bark. The bird was
clinging to the screen! She was picking up some breakfast; there were
moths resting on the screen, and she was getting a feast! I thanked God
for the little surprise, so cool!
Suddenly she darted to the lightpole and continued eating her moths,
finding even more there. The quickness of her movement set off the
little dog, so I was forced to climb out there to physically get his
attention so he would go in. He was still barking as he flew inside and
not to the sliding doors, but the screen door, biting the lattice in his
frustration. He wanted to hunt her. I was mad. Finally making my way
inside, I was only halfway across the porch when all goes black ---
daddy was up, to get ready for work, and he had switched off the lights,
as the sun would be up in no time. I sighed, making my way across the
rest of the porch, and opening the glass doors. As I put the dogs back
into their pen, hoping they'd sleep a couple more hours, I was met by
I smiled and whispered good morning, gave him a goodbye hug, and went back to lay down, instantly asleep.