Sunday, August 30, 2015
Instead, I came home with a 7lb, 5 month old female dachshund/miniature pinscher cross puppy with god knows what else mixed in. She'd been picked up as a stray on the mean streets of Albuquerque. She was never going to be big, that was for sure, and, of course, was not house-broken. She was very timid, and hid behind the TV for the first hours in our house. When I approached her, she would run away, and her cautiousness reminded me of the coyotes I was hoping to keep out of our yard. But there was something about her that spoke to me, some quality of reserve and dignity that I could see under the fear in her skinny body. When I finally managed to catch her and then pick her up, I could feel her surrender, melting her body into mine, burying her head in my chest, safe at last.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
As an adult, I came to realize that there was no one good guy, or, perhaps better said, all in nature is the "good guy". Without one, we can't have the other. Rabbits, and there are a lot of them, are eaten by predators, and predators, which there aren't so many of, face starvation if they don't find prey. They both live by their wits, and if they don't, they die. The reality, beyond the death of one animal or the other, is that both fox and rabbit live on, headed in different directions but sharing the same world of sky and forest.