Adventures of a 12 Year Old

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 daddy.

I smiled and whispered good morning, gave him a goodbye hug, and went back to lay down, instantly asleep.