It was a very busy seven- and- a- half hours at our house. Rather than resting soundly, Don ran with the dogs all night, and when he did rest, there was that constant thumping with his left foot, leaving me to wonder about fleas. At one point a pack of his dog friends were with him and someone named Fred--neither of us knows a Fred. The two of them were, for a few moments, in human form and they had a panther trapped--not sure Don has ever seen a panther. The hysterical yells of, “Get em Fred, get em!” puled me from a nervous scattered sleep, and his dog-self took over and he growled and snarled; I let that go on for only a short while
Soon things became really exciting and I had to awaken him. I found out later all of this ruckus involved a campfire, and a wrestling match. Well, you know what all of this action called for. By the time, his ears were red from my scratching and my hand was numb; he had fallen back to that land where he is a perpetual protector. I found myself in that dream-like state, of visions and dark thoughts, pondering what the years ahead would hold. Normally (normally?), Don just guards our neighborhood nocturnally, but this night he had ventured out and it was some trip.
I cannot say that I have ever grown accustomed to his “sleepy time” guard dog character. Barking at a pal trotting down the street or howling in concert with the beagle next door, always has the gut- wrenching sound of an alligator strangling on a billy goat that had been blessed with a full set of horns—not pleasant—frightening! I have often wondered if I should look into the psychology of this nighttime dog’s life or at least do a “Google” search on the subject, but honestly, I just can not come up with a keyword.