There is a pattern to my nights.
As I emerge, steaming, from a hot bath, carrying a pile of laundry, I am accompanied by the tick-tap of dog claws on hardwood. My emergence, and the bundle I carry can mean only one thing; treats!
They wait, patiently, as I deposit the laundry, and two pairs of liquid brown eyes follow my hand into the cookie/dog-treat jar. As they crunch their prizes, I walk to the back door and open it, in anticipation of a final trip outside.
As they join me, tails wagging, I close the door behind me in an effort to quell any thoughts of re-entering prematurely.
Freshly bathed, my dampened skin welcomes the soft, warm, Georgia-night breezes, which are not lost on the Beagle, as his nose lifts high and quivers in appreciation.
I walk the walk towards the gate while observing nightfall on my gardens. Brightly colored hibiscus winks as I pass, palm fronds sway, and roses send their scent, lest I forget their presence beyond the swath of yellow cast by the porch light.
As it is occasionally, our quiet exaltation is interrupted by the singing of a siren heading in the direction of those less fortunate. Both animals halt in their tracks, their busy noses still in silent question.
They turn to look at me; at me, Alpha-female, for guidance. It is a position I have won through time, patience, and dogged perseverence, and I know what I must do.
I wait, until the siren has reached it’s crescendo. And, I begin; low at first, then building. My sound becomes louder, the tone becomes higher, until they pick it up; first the half-breed, and then the Beagle; two aquiline noses pierce the air and twitch in unison…and we howl.
The siren wails, as do we, until, realizing that our inspiration is now distant, faint, and failing, I allow the two born to this sound to finish their song, alone.
And, as we turn towards the door, and the interior our quiet house, they smile, and wag in appreciation of my leadership, and my love.
© Copyright 2007-2008 Stacye Carroll
Are We There Yet? 