Dog Day Afternoon

The old black haired dog slowly made its way to where i was sitting.  His eyes had a twist of glaze.  Despite my complete captivation with the canine, my first thought was that I hoped he would walk on by, scratch at the hot dirt under the shade tree, and nestle down into a cold hole.  Basically my way of telling myself that I didn’t want to pet the old beast.  

I really figured it didn’t want to be pet either.  Not because dogs don’t love being pet, rather this was a real old dog probably looking for peace and quiet.  Where is it more safe and quiet for a canine than the inside of an unearthed hole that has just been personally dug?  A small racetrack of fleas and such were swarming around his white muzzle.

When Blackie got to me, it stopped and looked right through me.  In turn, I was able to see my calling within the glaze.  I put one index finger directly under his eardrum, and made slow motion, circular movements.  He froze and smiled.  When i stopped, it went downward dog on itself, before stretching out both hind legs independently.

It didn’t want any more or it would have made it known.  In my best baritone, I told it that I got why it decided to stop at my foot.  During our talk, some dog action erupted nearby.  The old black dog naturally opened its mouth to bark.  Little came out.  Again, it looked right at me.  He seemed relieved that natural instinct wasn’t able to get the better of him.