October 30, 2005


Dog of Stone - A Hankish Halloween Story

A few years ago, I was ambling through the neighborhood with Molly, responding with my usual social gusto to pee-mail, when suddenly I came upon a new dog. I was startled, the hair rising instantly on my back because this strange-looking cur was down on it's haunches and baring its fangs.

So I did what any intelligent, cautious Labrador would do under the circumstances. I gave the crazy beast a wide berth, keeping my eyes on it while walking off the sidewalk and into the street to avoid it. Molly told me not to be afraid, but humans aren't always good at reading the body language of dogs, so I kept my distance.

Over the next several weeks, I was none too eager to go down that street. Every time I did, there it was, in the same position, ready to pounce. What was it's problem? Was it protecting pups or was it just some evil Lab-loathing cur?

Then one day, Molly had had enough. I should say I've always respected the power of humans, and of Molly in particular. The human ability to control light in all situations, to harness the awesome power of the automobile, to wield the terrible vacuum cleaner, to somehow gracefully balance on two legs and manipulate almost anything with clever paws - these are things that all dogs respect or fear. But never did I hold human power in greater awe than the day Molly went up to that dreaded, growling, freakish beast and touched it on the head. The courage it took was amazing, and the outcome instantaneous: the hellhound became a thing rather than a mortal enemy.

Once she had done it, she encouraged me to come near. I did so cautiously, creeping toward the rump of the maniacal monster. I stretched my neck toward it to give it a quick sniff and then, reassured, became bolder yet. I smelled its legs and back and finally its head. Yes, she was right. It was no longer a threat. The life had certainly been drained.

So, during the hackle-raising season of Halloween, when many an eerily threatening person arrives at our doorstep, I strive to keep in mind the power of Molly. With a touch, I now know, she can transform any snarling, belligerent brute into a dog of stone. I am forewarned.

Hey a dog that blogs! Nice to meet you. I am not sure why there are a lot more cat bloggers out there, but as usual they don't have much to say.
Nice to meet you as well, woofwoof.
Wow, that thing looks scary to me too!

Really enjoyed your post.

What is it? Is it a statue? A stuffed dog?

Oops, just read the title. Geeze.

Stone. :)
Funny! Similar thing happened to my lab at Christmas. Someone made a snowdog in their front yard and I couldn't believe how seriously freaked out Sampson was. He was SURE it was real. I tried not to laugh since he's a bit sensitive...
I believe one and all must glance at it.
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