Dante
Woo and I went down to the Eagle Sanctuary for an evening stroll, eyeing the
disappearing corn from the fields, revealing all the mouse burrows and Coyote
prints going round the mouse burrows, and the Coyote paths through the fields
and the Coyote scat. Danto stops to sniff, and I murmur "Coyote" so
he pairs the word with the animal he hears calling out back down by the
outwaters, and the animal that killed the bunny that sought final refuge by the
shed, and the animal that strolls through the yard come winter and visits the
compost near midnight in the cold cold moonless nights. He watches me and
sniffs, gathers the information at the paths and glances at me again, as he
learns which word for which animal.
Bunny, Chip (munk), Mouse! Squirrel! are all part of his studies, as he
grows up and wonders about things and tries hard to learn what to fear and what
not to.
Slowly, as we walk down the dusty road, he is becoming accustomed to his
size (80 lbs lean, not real big, but there as a Shepherd) and confidence
(pretty fearful but coming along) and somehow, his place in his yard, his
house, his world.
I remember Shiva Louisa at 10
really beginning to take charge of her domain here, her land, as she told off
the Coyote in the distance, and marched about on rope, day and night with me by
her side (her being such a great candidate for a nice bear or Coyote snack) to
pee ceremonially and territorially , and then howl her mini Husky assertion to
the day and the night.
And so, he
too is growing up, and learning his own ways, as the sliver of moon rises clear
and white in the dark blue sky, and the dappled cloud moves along the horizon,
while we come back from the river once again.
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