Failure to retaliate
Now that the novelty of camping has wound down, we find ourselves comparing notes with other members of the community. Checking to see who has returned. Looking for breaches in the code that binds us together. Helping out. My strength is reputed to involve fixing computers, and the “Can you take a quick look?” requests are starting. Nothing involving commerce; if the mood doesn’t fit, I will suggest another tangent.
The road led to town today, in anticipation of family time. Not too early, though, since vacation is not generalized. Some time for us to park in “the Park” and allow the dog to visit flower boxes in need of marking. That passed, we were now free to go visiting.
The dog was invited to join the rest of us, after I swore to his good behavior. Consultation on his background and breeding have offered a new hypothesis: he might be a Lab-Doberman cross, without being “cross” if you’ll excuse the pun. Actually, his personality is very different.
I’d gone for another marking march, around the block, and we spotted a large black cat up ahead. A cat that seemed unfazed by the approach and passing of a much larger canine. We turned the corner, stopped for the required marking of a telephone pole, and noticed that the cat was now following, closely. Pause, turn, attack. The cat, not the dog. Aggressively, as if we were interlopers in the neighbourhood. And so we ran… away. No fight offered. Some howls from the paw swat, but no offer to rebuff the claw with fang. In reality, my dog seemed relieved that I was there in defense.
