Stargazing

One of the benefits of my profession is the endless adventures I have when accompanied by someone else’s pet. It’s a kind of follow the leader mentality and I’m not always in the position of the leader…

Charlie, a middle aged Golden Retriever and Sammie, his sister, who was pure bred Westie, were house mates.  Charlie was the original resident and Max, had been left behind by a longtime boyfriend; quite a pairing, but perfect for this family.  The Colonel and her son resided in  this sprawling “countryish” bedroom community 10 miles west of my house. 

This was a work in progress and the original plans for the community must be close to 100 acres. Every time I had a job out there, I would pass new construction.  The dump trucks and mobile cantinas dotted streets in a haphazard pattern. New brick homes would sprout up between the chicken coops and falling down trailers.  Little well groomed flower and vegetable gardens bordered even smaller 1 bedroom cottages.  And well, the wild life just carried on amidst the school busses and cars, skateboarders, bicyclists and mail trucks.

Dogs without their people chased the cats in the same category.  Driving directions were more visual than written down, because the numbers on the mailboxes occasionally fell off if the box had been hand made.  The newer houses, of course, were well lighted and the paved streets to which they belonged never left me guessing.

My family lived on a short street; maybe a dozen homes, all brick with fences. This grouping was popular with most of the builders out there.  You’d cross several dirt roads and then come across a short paved section with a new floor plan for sale.

The end houses shared property lines with forest like a quilt without proper binding. Their house was at the beginning with a 45 degree driveway up to the physical building.

Charlie and Max were to be walked after meals.  It was without exception.  Their owner, a career Air Force nurse was all about fresh air.  Tony, her son, was quite the soccer player and both of them loved the out of doors.  Leashes were always in a tall cylindrical basket at the front door.  Charlie always had his leash in his mouth and sat rather impatiently while I lassoed Max for our twice or more daily outings.

Being that Sammie was a breed so close to the ground, the pace of our walks fell short of brisk and suited my abilities.  My reasons for enjoying walks had nothing to do with health benefits, I always had reason to admire the plantings, seasonal décor and if the windows had been left un-curtained, I would gaze at life on the inside. Got quite a few decorating tips this way!

Each time we left the house, Charlie would lead to a favorite patch of curb and then it was at my discretion which direction to go.  Max just stayed within the shadow of her brother and was content at whatever he wanted to investigate. Didn’t matter the weather and on those very wet days, we knew that towels were readied in the laundry room for paws and ears when we got home. 

Months passed, seems a whole summer in fact, and the two to three mile circumference of our journey remained unchanged. Nothing new, no potholes, no unexpected construction nails in the road.  We knew the barks behind all the neighboring fences and took for granted that we would forever continue our favorite times of day.

Evenings in this “countryish” scene lent magical moments to the routine.  Nature’s calling was a welcomed respite to busy days. As I was not a sleep over guest with this client, our final walk was taken as late as possible sometimes after the ten o’clock hour.  Perfectly safe and I was nothing if not prepared with cell phone and flashlight in pockets and bright neon striped safety vest.

That night’s pre bedtime airing was going to be especially wonderful because the heaven’s natural lights were seasonally bright. Mars was out and the Big Dipper was in the eastern hemisphere.  Street lights were in competition so we headed west and north to the nearest dirt road for our gazing pleasure.

Do dogs stargaze?  I think so, because I sat down between my two friends and gave them a basic astronomy lesson.  I said “Look, Charlie, can you see that one? Sammie, come here, let me hold you and point out that grouping which looks just like you!” Pretty soon, we all got fidgety and I got up and announced that it was time to go, but Charlie wouldn’t budge. Max was already at the end of her leash and looked behind her to look at him and I was looking behind him and there she was…

About 400 pounds of black bear, just watching us watch her.  Now what?  Stay calm, look for cover or people or get the heck out of there. “Charlie, HEEL”! With flashlight and very audible commands from me, we moved and started to gain distance from her and my line of vision changed from behind me to the welcomed view of people with flashlights coming to our rescue.

The next door neighbor, who was self -appointed neighborhood watchman, had seen us head out (just all the nights before) but our usual return time was apparently delayed and he had placed calls for a search party.  Wonderful!!

He was telling me, to keep leashes taught and quicken my pace, but not run…repeat…do not run. Go straight home, he would see me in a few.

OMG, I was thinking how to carry Sammie and keep Charlie calm.  Surely the irresistible scent of the bear would keep him not wanting to leave.  Well, we managed, I don’t remember the last several yards to the house, but we walked right in, locked the door and watched as neighbors gathered in the street to discuss strategies.  Within 15 minutes or so, and after I had called the owner to recount the encounter, neighbor came over ready to give me verbal “CPR”. I was fine. He told me what my client should have told me, but perhaps considering the color of my hair, didn’t find it had been necessary to give a lecture on bear safety. I was thankful for the tips and had a list of anti-bear equipment to buy before returning the next day.

In that list was bear repellant (for me), and small rattles (or a wind chime would do).

Sometimes, lessons are learned the hard way. Gray hair is no great indicator that I have retained all the life lessons I once knew. This one is gonna stay with me though. When in nature, expect wonder and be grateful that she teaches the bear to share her star filled canopy with the pet sitter and friends.