Nearby. Look. Right there. Freeze. Listen… closer still.
The dog barks echo through the trees. In the habitual darkness he looks around in an all too familiar scene…
“Waa Waa Waa Waa Woof”
“Wuh Wuh Wuh Wuh Woooof,” replied.
My hairs slowly rise, like static cling, to an invisible balloon, grazing my neck, my back, my tail, moving ever so slightly in silence, even the ants below can’t see as they march by, even right in the path of the moonlight. Hold the shadow steady.
The blind owl calls out, “who-who, who-whoo.”
Interrupting those filthy beasts, his hoots roll off the leaves by night, like the light on the river as it travels over the rocks.
The hawk flies through the clouds. The squirrel glides branch to branch.
My chance… and his.
Claws dig into the dirt, then wood, deep. Slow motion, sped up.
The barks bite the air, so close the sounds almost nip my toes, unnoticed in the commotion.
Perched up there for a quick bath under the humming lamp light, dancing above with each flick of his tail. The others trapped thanks to the fence, panic returns as I hear his customary call…
“Silly dogs, I bid you adieu,” he mocks. “I spy an old grey friend lurking in the tall grass there – looking and listening and hoping I did not see him scamper through the shadows.”
The chase begins again.