Sharks and Wolves

What Started Out As Normal...

Caley’s infectious laugh echoed in the early morning air as we walked briskly along the Victorian fence outlining the quaint neighborhood of Edina, Virginia. The red sun’s midline passed the horizon, a bright orange hue radiating from outside its circumference, impregnated the sky with the glorious, happy, exciting color.

Emma gazed up at the sky and the colors seemed to replicate upon her face, a small smile tugging at her lips. Her daughter laughed joyously as she held my dog’s leash, a new sense of power and responsibility placed in her hands, despite the fact my Australian shepherd was pretty much dragging her behind him. Her yipped happily, determined to reach the pine tree a few yards away. In her flashy tennis shoes, she pranced just has happily behind him, giggling.

“Homer,” I warned him. His ears perked at me voice but other than that paid no attention towards me, his fierce blue eyes focused on the tall tree. His tail, oddly long and not usual with the breed’s physical characteristics, whipped back and forth furiously, almost hitting her knees. I growled his names again and he slowed his pace, definitely understanding my harsh tone.

“Oh come on Kay,” Emma criticized me, “the poor oaf just got out of the vet’s office this morning, give him a break. He’s excited to get out of that crate.”

“He has to take it easy,” I objected. I leaned over and stroked his spine, savoring the silk fur he adorned. “After that dysplasia scare, I was kind of hesitant to even take him out.”

When we finally reached the tree, the collie didn’t hesitate to relieve himself and started sniffing around. Caley took this opportunity to smother him with kisses and rub his long, perked ears. His hind legs wobbled in excitement from the affection the little girl caressed him with. Small but a force when motivated, he pounced on her, licking her face profusely. I gasped and rushed forward, pulling the mass of brown and blue speckles off of the girl, cursing the dog for his carelessness to which he replied with a confused look up at me.

Emma came to defense and slapped my hand off his scruff and scowled at me, pointing at Caley who was giggling hysterically. “Homey, Homey,” she cried, reaching out for Homer and lunged again, prancing on top of her chest while his whole rear wiggle vigorously. She grasped his furry name and accepted his kisses while I shook my head in disapproval. Emma sighed, adoration visible on her shaded face, thinking the scene was cute.

“That’s not a good habit,” I criticized, taking the leash in my own hands and hauling him off with a forceful tug. He yipped but succumbed to my authority as he readjusted to my side, not straying far away. “Dogs 101, never let them lead you, you lead them. Keep that in mind when you ever want to dog. I honestly don’t get why I ever continued to the collie legacy when I moved closer to the city. My life style doesn’t suit this kind of demanding exercise. I should’ve just stuck a cat.”

“You love him,” Emma defended, stoking his soft head. His eyes closed in content while soaking in the attention.

“I do,” I admitted, petting him after Emma. “When I saw him at the shelter, his sad blue eyes got to me. He sucked me in. Who would’ve thought that when I went into the Animal Humane Society looking at cats I’d be sucked in into taking this little fellow out the door and into my Audi within 2 hours to head to my house. He’s a lucky bastard.”

“Kayla! Shh!” Emma scowled, covering her daughter’s ears. Caley laughed, knowing it was too late.  

Homer hopped happily, dancing around me, nudging me with his shoulders.

We stepped onto the moist grass where I unleashed Homer and he darted across the field, soaking in the freedom and new smells. Caley ran after him, and then roles switched as he in turn tuned into his natural herding instincts and followed her, playfully nipping at her heels but not making contact, I was sure of that, as I watched him carefully.