The eggs sizzled promisingly, the only sound in the darkened kitchen. Well, there were other sounds, but this was the one I was most interested in. I could hear music from the other room, a song about living simple at the end of a pitted gravel road. Fitting for my current situation. The night air came in through the open kitchen window. Crickets chirped, and I could hear the faint jingle of a dog scratching their collar. The stars were just visible, past the towering trees. The wind was playing in the tops, swaying the leafy canopy far above, merely setting the trunks to quivering ever so slightly. If I listened carefully, I could hear the soft whooshing of the wind, like a river just around the corner.
The smell of the eggs was growing, combining with the sharp cheddar I had grated into the pan, mingling with the spices. Simple fare, but it would keep me going. It was also one of my favorite meals that I can make quickly and easily. That went a long way to endearing it to me as well. I was looking forward to a quiet meal for this quiet evening.
The sound of shots rang out, loud in the otherwise still evening. I jumped in my skin, and would’ve dropped anything I was holding. My host was shooting off rounds into the darkened forest. In the distance, I could hear a neighbor answer with a few rapid shots of his own. After a moment, I could hear some more shots even further down the valley. Just another evening at the end of the gravel road, with people bein’ neighborly. I unwound my shoulders and finished my cooking.
I headed upstairs to watch a movie and enjoy my dinner. After another round, the shooting had died down again, and everyone was back to their drinking. After the movie, after dishes, I headed back outside. The stars were bright above my head, and the moon was less than half full. I listened to the soft night sounds. Dog should be coming up any moment now, sensitive to the sounds of my feet in the front porch. I stood a moment, looking around. Where was she?
“Dog?” I asked, looking about. Have you ever tried to spot a black dog on a near moonless night under the tall trees? I highly recommend it. A wonderful exercise to keep one humble.
When there was no response from my usually attentive dog, I called a bit louder. I stepped away from the front porch and further into the darkness. The inky pools under the trees stared back, unrevealing. Here was the other dog, annoyingly excitable in the face of my attempts to listen for my dog. I shooed away the other dog, and called again.
There. The faint jingle of her collar tags. I listened, but the sound did not repeat.
“Dog?” I queried the darkness. A whine answered me, and I turned.
The front porch was about five feet off the ground, and the open face of it had been fenced in with trellis. Behind the cheerfully crossed pattern of the light wood, I saw the starlight glint off Dog’s eyes. I could hear her panting gently in distress at being unable to come to me, and I could hear the faint whoosh of her tail wagging with pleasure at my attention. Her eyes beseeched me, completely confident I would be able to extract her from this predicament. I sighed.
I went back inside and fetched a light. Sliding down the slight slope of the earth beside the fenced in porch, I came to a corner. I reasoned that this inside right angle was probably where she has forced her way thru the trellis to hide from the gunshots. Sure enough, I found a place where one sheet of trellis could be just pushed in, allowing something frightened and silly to get in. Once in however, there was no way to force back out. I sighed, and teetered on a tumble of concrete clumps to push in the trellis. The other dog figured I was finally coming down to her level, and she immediately wriggled right into my way, attempting to smear my face with her muddy tongue. I shoved the other dog away with a curse, the only language she seemed to pay heed to. One more glare was needed to keep the other dog at bay, and then I pushed at the trellis again. Dog slithered around the corner, claws scrabbling on the debris under the porch. The slope was awkward, but she did manage to squeeze out.
Dog was ecstatic, pouncing all over the ground before me. The other dog leaped on her, teeth nipping her and growling in her exuberant adolescent way. Dog shook her off, and continued to celebrate her freedom and my attention. I sighed, and scratched her behind the ears, pushing away the other dog again. I had no doubt Dog would not hesitate to get under the deck again should more shots be fired off. Of course, then I could rescue her again, and cause such delight. Some things about a dog’s life are pretty simple.
Wherever you are, Be There 