complicated sex:
Good Dogs Make Good Neighbors
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself.
I've got to agree with old Robert Frost when he says, “Something there is that doesn't love a wall.†Especially on mornings like this when I feel like I could just as easily be in New England as in Virginia.
This morning the sky was grey. The air was cool. There was no humidity. I got up with nothing to do., and the nothingness felt great. The greyness of the sky, the coolness of the air, would be perfect for a walk. I put on my shorts, tennis shoes and jacket. I pulled my hair back from my face and let the dogs out. Together the three of us headed off down my gravel road. I don't keep the dogs on leashes. I hate to see dogs on a leash, not that there is much someone who lives in urban or even suburban places can do, but I've always enjoyed watching my dogs run in the fields and forests, jumping over tall grass, and losing their way when a rabbit happens to cross their paths.
The dogs and I headed down past the pond. We rounded a curve and went up a small hill and down beside a tobacco field. We passed the creek where the culvert attracted the attention of my Jack Russell, Bennie. My boxer and I stood watching as she sniffed around trying to find the scent of a rabbit she'd tracked a few nights before in that spot.
Jamie pulled his jeep up behind me, we'd passed him fishing at the pond a few minutes earlier. He rolled the window down, “Everything all right?â€
“Sure, Bennie's trying to find her rabbit friend.â€
“She a hunting dog now?â€
“Not at all. She's terrible. The last time she tracked it, she ran right by it twice, nose to the ground, and never saw it.â€
Jamie laughed, “You can take the dog out of the city, but you can't take the city out of the dog.â€
“You might be right. She's trying though.â€
Bennie'd actually lived all over the place, the city, she'd grown up walking on a leash, which I hated, then the beach, where she'd almost met a terrible end in quicksand, and now here, in the country.
As if she knew we were talking about her, she came trotting up to the jeep, blocking Jamie from moving.
“Are you off work today?†I asked.
“Yep, going to see if Ronald needs any help with building those shelves. He had a big order.â€
“Is he on his own now?â€
“Yep, left Myers and Sons a little over a year ago. Where you been? I thought the whole mountain knew that.â€
I grinned, “I'm always the last to know.â€
Bennie was now sniffing in the weeds behind me. Jamie watched her in his mirror, then adjusted his hat, “You and your girls be safe. Watch out for snakes down here.â€
“Sure thing. Thanks.â€
We walked up the hill and I looked at Ronald's feed plot of soy beans. They were growing thick and green now. Only a few weeks ago the whole hill had been red and muddy. I could only imagine how much clay Ronald had tracked all over his house. But I was grateful to Ronald for planting it. The plot was beautiful, and I was looking forward to watching the deer that would come and eat here. I was also thankful that they'd not be eating my garden since Ronald was feeding them.
We walked up the steep hill passed the plot. Ronald's hunting dogs howled at us as we neared his house and his oldest dog, tits nearly dragging the ground, came running off of his porch, growling. Jamie hollered at her to leave us alone, but she still bristled and barked. My dogs and I headed on down the hill trying to ignore her.
We passed two more tobacco fields, a barn, and one of the greenhouses. Pools of muddy water sat in the deep ruts that the tractors had dug. The dogs stopped to sip from the them Several of the migrant farmers came out of the barn and waved. I waved back and said, “Hola! Buenas dias!â€
They smiled shyly and returned to their work in the barns.
Most of the guys I knew growing up had worked in tobacco, but I hadn't, so I had no idea what they were doing in there or how hard the work was, but from what my friends, who never wanted to work it again, said I figured it must be a tough job.
We circled the barn and headed back up the hill.
Opal drove slowly up to us. Bennie got in front of her and yapped. Opal stuck her head out, “She the welcoming committee?â€
“She thinks so.â€
I fussed at Bennie to get out of Opal's way, but she continued to yip and wag her very small tail. I rolled my eyes, “I'm sorry Opal,†I said calling Bennie to me and rethinking my philosophy of the leash.
“Don't worry. How you coming along?â€
“Well. My morning sickness is finally gone, and I've gotten a lot of energy back. I feel great.â€
“You're over the first the three months. Felt the baby moving yet?â€
“I think so, I'm not sure. It's hard to tell what each feeling is.â€
“Yes, lord! I remember. Do you know what it is yet?†she asked.
“No, Jenny said it's going to be a girl. She did one of those West Virginia things.â€
“Well, she's probably right. She was right about hers, won't she?â€
“Yes, she was.â€
My boxer began nudging me, and I rubbed her head. Bennie was half-way back up the hill , and I could see Ronald's dog coming towards her.
“I'm heading up to stop Bennie. She's bound to get herself into trouble.â€
Opal grinned, “Watch that little one.â€
“I will,†I say.
And I feel that if Frost's neighbor had been the owner of a mischievous, elf-like Jack Russell, instead of a wall, he might have more capable of defending the statement: “Good dogs make good neighbors.â€