I came to work across the muskeg yesterday. I always forget how pretty it is. Yesterday I hiked the golden red of a winter muskeg, low ceiling and ground fog drifting from center stage to off stage on the right. I guess the high light of the trip was three dogs. I haven't had time to think about them. The first was a brown Labrador. The dog has known me since its puppyhood. It barks loudly from the end of its chain but the tail is wagging wildly. The next was a black lab I didn't recognize that sat at the side of the road, but kept its back to me sort of "I'm invisible. You can't see me." things. The final was some big dog that didn't see me until I was way past its property. Its bark was loud and ferocious and it began stalking me at some distance.
I looked around for a stick to throw. (It's a trick I learned when dealing with the dogs that lived next door to Paul in DJ. When being charged, you raise a stick over your head. Bad dogs cower and run away with their tails between their legs. Good dogs sit with the tails wagging, waiting for you to throw it.) I considered picking up a 4x4 in the ditch, but no dog deserves that. Besides the magic works just as well with a twig as a stick. It gave up following me.
So, a dog doing its duty. A dog afraid. And a dog too brave. I wonder if that says something about the way we live our lives. Duty can bind us like a chain. Fear; well that's Satan's weapon of choice. And some of us are braver than our Master requires us to be.