Last Saturday begged me to leave home and get outdoors. It was a beautiful day, the air was crisp and clear. There were no phones where I went, no television. Just the quiet beauty of God’s creation. Perfect for reading, taking short naps, reading some more and simply being.
I took my husband along, too.
Actually, he took me. He needed some fishing time. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
As we arrived closer to our destination, we saw deer hunters standing on the side of the road. Raised a city girl, I had to ask my husband what they were doing. He explained they were running their dogs to find deer and chase them out of the woods so the hunters could shoot them. I commented that it seemed dangerous to have men with loaded guns standing on the byways of South Carolina. I also thought it was disconcerting that the dogs were being run on property that has clearly marked “No Trespassing” signs.
If the dogs were successful and the deer did run out of the woods ... and we happened to be driving by at the same time ... would the deer hit us? Would the hunter shoot at the deer, miss and shoot me instead (they were on my side of the car)? Not sure I like that setup and since then I’ve talked to a few people who agree with me that it’s dangerous and should not be permitted on S.C. highways.
I never heard any shots that afternoon, so thankfully neither hunter was forced to make a choice. But I watched with amusement as one of their dogs showed them a thing or two.
While sitting on the hill reading, I heard a light tinkling sound behind me and turned to see one of the dogs heading my way. Simultaneously, my husband saw him and yelled that he would not harm me. In fact, he was a very gentle and friendly dog, skinny as a rail with bones sticking out of his skin, but he was a welcome visitor.
He sat with me for a few minutes, then got up to explore the surroundings, walking back and forth across the dam, walking to the water’s edge to take some refreshment, and resting in the cool grass, falling autumn leaves and pine straw.
Soon he heard one of his compadres howling in the distance. His ears perked up to pick up the sound and he headed in that direction. I decided my new friend had other pursuits on his agenda. To my surprise, about five minutes later, he reappeared.
For the next three hours, he made himself at home with me, content to rest and relax in the beauty of the afternoon. I thought about those hunters waiting on the side of the road for him to chase a deer toward them. Hey, this dog just wasn’t interested. He had looked on the other side of the fence and actually found greener pastures.
I chuckled to myself. The dog was doing exactly what we were doing. He was taking a break from the rat race ... or would you call it the deer chase ... enjoying the company of good folks and languishing in a beautiful autumn afternoon.ˇ All the while, his owners were waiting beside the road, waiting for him to bring them their prize for the afternoon. He got the best of them, and he got the best that the afternoon had to offer.
Though the origin of the phrase, “It’s a dog’s life,” comes with a generally negative connotation, from what I observed Saturday afternoon, that dog’s life for that moment in time was relaxing, enjoyable and peaceful. He had found a little piece of heaven and he aimed to enjoy it.
I don’t blame him. I don’t blame him one bit.
Harris Murray is director of library services at Orangeburg-Calhoun Technical College. She can be reached by e-mail at writeharris55@yahoo.com. Discuss this and other stories online at TheTandD.com.