full-throttle. Dogs don’t follow calendars. There’s a noticeable shortage of canine astronomers to track lunar cycles and seasons of the sun. Every day is literally a new thing to a dog, some hotter, some colder, but every single one full of startling surprises.
Bird. And then somebody in a bedsheet whose mom said a ghost is waaaay cooler than that $30 Darth Vader outfit from the megastore. Somebody in a bedsheet, muttering.
down again and hope they’re addled enough for you to make your move? Maybe it
won’t be full of that sweet brown stuff that made you heave for hours last year.
their shaggy part, too. Sully, the beagle mix, barks at leaves. Wookies, freak birds
and walking sheets? It’s a full-blown bark-a-thon.
half Irish wolfhound, all black and full of smarts and attitude. In the dark, all you could see were his teeth. About waist high because he was as big as a pony. Except ponies don’t rattle walls like thunder when they bark. And ponies don’t bite like a giant black hound.
warnings that he was ready to go Cujo. Not until Cuchulain did that thing with
his lip to show how very big his teeth really were. Which is when the idiot owner became a VERY cautious owner. And when Cuchulain’s meet and greets with strangers came to a screeching halt.
off and then retreated to the bedroom, grumbling. If we didn’t have enough
sense not to open the door, we were on our on. We had to make Sully stop to
breathe he barked so much. But nothing like Cuchulain, who shouldered Finn
aside, stuck his snout to the windowpane and rocked the night. Who knew zombies
and werewolves could U-turn so fast at the end of a driveway. Word got out.
stand cross-legged by the door, whimpering and grimacing? For a big dog, Cuchulain gave a surprisingly nuanced performance. Why he couldn’t use theatrics to ward off people instead of snapping at them we never knew. The motivation was the same: Keep your digits to yourself, bub.
threat. It’s for fun. He eyed the door, unconvinced. I’ve tried to tell him the
weird creatures out there are just kids in costume. Sully doesn’t get symbolism
or guising. Once I strayed into an explanation of Wookies and Darth Vader but
... Sully’s grasp of space mythology is pretty thin. He tried. Sully sat there,
wide-eyed, listening. Then I remembered he sleeps with his eyes open. A crunch
in the leaves outside and he was back at the door, telling the scary things to
newspaper and lives on a mountain with several giant hounds and wary cats.