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It all started one hot summer’s day. We were sitting in our normal place, in the huge cottonwood tree in the east side of the yard. At the base of our leafy perch sat two large milk, copper and cream colored beasts of the canine variety. Though in general, I don’t believe dogs to be very smart, the brown-eyed one had a vaguely intelligent look as he peered upward. I call him Einstein. The other, with her frightening, witch-blue eyes, was as quick as a hummingbird on a sugar rush.
They waited there most the day, most of every day. Apparently the mutts were hoping one of us might fall out. As if! We found uproariously good sport in tiptoeing along the perimeter of their yard atop the wooden fence. This torture eventually lost its luster. The dregs of summer, the heat, the boredom, these things all collide at times creating the perfect situation for making bad decisions. It started as a joke. When Clifford complained of the heat, Dexter, suggested, “We should go for a swim in their bowl.”
“The dog bowl?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Suicide. It’s suicide!” Clifford droned.
Dex resorted to name calling, “Coward!”
“He’s not a coward. Their water dish is on the deck. Getting there might be possible, but with two dogs in the yard, I’d have to say Dex is right for once. If they covered both stairs, they could cut off any escape.”
“Not the railing.”
“Suicide, you fool!”
“Shut up Clifford. You said they’d catch us on top of the fence too!”
Clifford just stared at Dex, his lips and nose twitching slightly. His dark eyes looked as if they might well up for a moment.
“He’s right, Dexter. The fence is what . . . six feet high. That railing on the deck is only about half that. They’re big enough to pluck us off there without trying.”
“Yeah, it would be suicide!”
“Shut it Cliff.” This time it was me telling him to be quiet. Cliff was the last one to join us running the fence. Everything was too dangerous in his eyes. He’d just stay in the tree and let someone deliver his meals if it were possible. Of course we weren’t about to pamper him and aside birds feeding their young, I’ve never heard of treetop food delivery services. “You know once you ran the fence with us it was fun.”
“This isn’t the fence.”
“What if there were only one dog?” Dex asked.
“I think it could be done with just one of them in the yard.”
Dex is capable of a smile so evil it sometimes made me shiver. Of course this was what he displayed before telling me, “Then I dare you.”
“No way!”
“Just a drink then.”
“Seriously?”
“Me too!” added Cliff. He was mad at me for not taking his side even though he was right. Cliff is awful touchy for someone who complains so much.
“You think I won’t?”
Dex still had the evil grin, “I hope you will actually.”
I looked at Cliff, but he wasn’t letting me off the hook. He bobbed his head at me. “Dare ya!”
“Fine.” I heard myself replying.
If Cliff was a coward and Dexter was a few nuts short of a bushel, I guess I’m just too stubborn for my own good. The challenge had been laid down. I promptly took a nap.
I awoke to Dexter jumping on me and chattering. “It’s time. The brown eyed one went inside and the other one is taking a nap.”
I stretched and yawned before checking out the situation. Indeed the witch dog was curled up at the base of our tree, snoozing in the heat. I wasn’t entirely confident in Dex’s scouting report. It would have been just like him to tell me the coast was clear when they’d actually added another dog to the mix. For all I knew, Einstein was on the other side of the house entertaining the hyperactive ball of creamy fluff that sometimes visited.
“You really gonna do it?” Clifford asked, his tail flicking nervously. “Seems dangerous.”
“Not suicidal?”
“A little suicidal.”
“Go on.” Dex urged.
“I’m going. I’m going.”
I descended the tree with as much stealth as possible. I made it to the top of the fence without waking the sleeping dog. My plan was to survey the yard before I made my mad run for the water dish. I didn’t want any surprises. A magpie eyed me suspiciously from atop one of the Russian Olive trees as I scampered past. I never trusted magpies, so I hurried along. I passed the ceramic sculpture of a smiling sun hanging on the fence. I don’t know why it was smiling. It’s hands, sometimes filled with sunflower seeds, were empty.
The yard was devoid of any other dogs. I headed back along the top of the fence to the post closest the far stairway. I paused on the post for what seemed an eternity, collecting my strength and wit. I took a deep breath. I willed myself to move ahead. Logic did not override my fear. I took another deep breath. On the third try I moved halfway down the post.
Twice I thought I heard something and retreated to the top of the post. Twice Dexter heckled me from the tree. What was that idiot up to? I worried he was going to wake the sleeping dog. I heard another sound above me. The magpie was eyeing me from the top of the fence. His presence made me nervous. I’d had a run in with magpies protecting their nest more than once. They can be mean.
“Go away.” I whispered.
“Do you need help?”
“No!”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to drink out of the dog bowl.”
“Oh . . . why?”
“To see if I can.”
“Good luck with that.”
He flew back to the top of the Russian Olive. I closed my eyes, counted to five and was off. I ran across the yard. I lept up the stairs. All the while fear propelled me. I moved like my tail was on fire. I felt the fingers of death reaching toward me from behind. It was glorious and terrifying at once. I don’t know that I moved any faster than normal, but it felt like I was flying.
Atop the deck, I moved into the shadow of the house. I stopped for a moment to make sure the coast was clear. Then I moved to the water bowl. I took a quick drink. It was foul water. Any warmer and it would have been boiling. It was tinted with dog breath, dead meat and sulfur. I stood on my hind legs thinking I might hurl from drinking it. My stomach churned for a moment and I covered my mouth till the feeling passed.
Catching my reflection in the glass door, I paused. I looked bigger than I remembered. Certainly my tail was fluffier and my fur was richer and shinier. I felt suddenly invincible. I drank from the dog’s bowl!
The feeling was short lived. The magpie swooped down. I jumped back from his pending attack only to realize he was warning me of something else. He cried, “Look out!” as he swooshed overhead.
The door was opening!
A tall human was letting the semi-intelligent dog out. I looked right into the brown eyes of beast for a moment. I don’t think he knew what to think. I know it took me a moment to process. Einstein barked once. Then the chase began.
Flat out the mutt was faster than me. But his size was a detriment for changing direction. I practically ran right under him as he lunged toward me. The skitter of claws fighting for purchase filled the air. I cleared the three steps to the landing in one leap. I bounced down the stairs, listening to the breath of the big dog stumbling clumsily behind me.
At the bottom of the stairs, I realized that “witch eyes” was no longer sleeping. This fact would have been hard to escape, since she was three feet from where I landed. Trapped between the two dogs, instinct kicked in. I heard her teeth snap behind me as I leapt up the railing. I moved like a bolt of lightning. Einstein realized what was happening. He turned and was waiting at the landing before I made it to the top of the stairs. Their trap was closing.
All the while Dexter shouted worthless instructions such as, “Go faster!” or “look out!” As if I was going to close my eyes and go slowly. Clifford on the other hand was woefully disheartening moaning loudly, “Suicide! Jerry is going to die! Suicide. This is your fault Dex. Poor Jerry!”
With Einstein blocking my path and Witch Eyes coming up from behind I was worried that Cliff’s assessment was accurate. I flew forward. No plan in mind, I just knew I couldn’t stop. I dashed to the top of the rail. Without thinking, I launched myself into thin air. It was fifteen feet to the fence. No way I’d make that. But the slimmest of branches protruded from one of the Aspen trees. It was a freakish deformation.
Aspens grow straight and tall. This one branch was horizontal for six or seven feet.
It was a ten foot fall. If I missed it, I’d end up dazed, or worse, at the base of the fence that I’d just missed. The odds were good that the two dogs would have me for lunch before I could remember my name from a fall like that. If I caught the branch, I could ride it to the top of the fence . . . maybe.
I focused on the branch as I sailed through the air. Adrenaline and fear had pushed me further than I thought I could jump. But I’d jumped blindly and wasn’t sure that I’d be able to reach. I stretched my left foreleg and crossed the claws on my right one for luck. By the slimmest of margins, I caught a claw on the thinnest offshoot. I pulled and the branch swung to me more than I to it. A moment later I had a firm hold on it.
I scrambled up the fence and made my way back into the tree. It was fifteen minutes before I stopped trembling there. All the while, Dex howled, “You should have seen the look on your face!”
“I thought you were dead!” Cliff added.
They were still laughing when I caught my breath. “I dare you to try it.”
“No way!” Dex replied.
“Suicide!” Cliff added.
This was based upon a true story. Although I do not know the true motivations behind the event, I did witness an insane squirrel narrowly escape both of our huskies and the force of gravity after drinking from the dog bowl on our deck one summer. I always wondered what he was thinking.
