Dream of the Dragon

Category: Dogs

Definitely not Scatha.

by Justin

Two rope swings, usually reserved for leaping out into the bay, served only to carry children out over the water and then back within inches of hitting nearby trees. The original designs didn’t account for their use outside the summer months. To be fair, the summer months probably didn’t plan to make an appearance in January.

A white dog, much too tall and lean to be husky or malamute, won the day by fiercely resembling an arctic wolf and carrying no small amount of that mystique. It’s name was Dragon.

A young blond child, lagging behind larger and louder friends, stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled along. The boy, at most 8 years old, was in no hurry to catch up. “Man, I wish I had my cell phone,” he said.


by Justin

My dog rolled in something dead. He chewed at it first, then slammed his face into the earth and became eight shades of filthy. He also kissed me immediately afterwards, sharing that terrific death-laced breath. And maybe some secret disease of rot – who can know?

As much as I wish he didn’t get down like that, those moments of pure instinct are gems. Dogs tread the line between the wild and the distinctly human, hard-wired to love man desperately and then dive head-first into some other beast’s filth. I wish I obeyed instincts as easily as I obeyed my rational mind. Dogs are thresholders. Read the rest of this entry »