An unwelcomed visitor

 

There is a fine and sturdy dog that keeps me company and has for years.  Just by looking at him, I know he is of nobility.  There is knowing in his eyes that is immediately apparent.  Smarter than people give a dog credit for being, and often I am concerned how much he relies on me to be the one making the proper decisions.

I always said, before anyone should have a pet, they must be smarter then the pet.  Now that philosophy is coming back to bite me.   Had I known when I got him just how smart he was, I would have given him a more appropriate name, something fitting his personality.  Unfortunately, I didn’t.  I named him Boxcar.

It is a name he knows to be his, and he will forever be Boxcar.  It is far too late to change it now.  It first came about when I noticed him jumping down from an open boxcar, on a train that had stopped at the intersection.  He didn’t seem to belong to anyone, and just came trotting down my street as if he knew right where he was headed.  As he got to my house, he came up the walk and stepped up onto the porch.  I was sitting in the wicker chair, and he simply curled up next to me and went to sleep.  It was like he knew this was where he should be. 

The more I got to know him and the longer we were together, the greater my fear grew that one day he would just trot off down the street and be gone from my life.  Maybe I had put more into this relationship than was normal, but it was how I felt.

He never bothered anyone who came over to visit me.  He would wag his tail a little but never really showed much interest.  That was until I was paid a visit by Mr. Stiles.  I don’t even remember what he was selling, but Boxcar got a low growl started and the more our visitor came into the room, the more Boxcar let his feelings be known.  Knowing this wasn’t his normal behavior, I told Mr. Stiles he should probably leave.  He didn’t argue, as Boxcar was now standing and not looking at all friendly.

To this day, I’m not sure if Boxcar didn’t like toupees or bowties, or if our visitor was simply sinister, but Boxcar was having none of it.

 

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     Even the Rabbit Knew

 

Just two days ago, when Boxcar and I went for our usual walk, I saw something I never would have believed had I not seen it for myself.  I should mention here that Boxcar doesn’t wear a collar and I never put him on a leash.  He just isn’t the kind to run off, chase cars or bother other dogs.  He simply walks along side of me, going where I go, at a pace I like to walk.

When we reached the park, I took a break on one of the benches and gave Boxcar a drink of water from the bottle of water I carry.  He didn’t drink much but preferred to just lay next to the bench.  As I sat there watching other walkers and kids on bicycles, a rabbit came out from under the bush.  I noticed it about the same time as Boxcar.  I didn’t move.  I didn’t want to startle it but was curious to see what Boxcar would do.  I hoped he wouldn’t see it as lunch.

Boxcar twitched an ear but otherwise just laid quiet.  The rabbit, however, came right up to Boxcar’s nose and I could swear they touched noses.   How on earth was this possible?  How could this rabbit know that the large dog before him was gentle, in fact harmless?

Also watching this strange event was a lady and her dog, from over on the walking path.  Her little dog was barking like crazy and tugging to get free of his leash.  The lady, like me, couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  She looked like she wanted to come closer but there was no way she would be able to control her dog.  She tugged on his leash and headed down along the path, occasionally looking back at us.

I should probably be writing these things down.

An Odd Encounter 

 

        Saturday morning, I am sitting in my wicker chair on the front porch, with Boxcar curled up next to me. We are just watching the neighborhood wake up.  A few are getting into their cars and driving off, while others are walking down their driveway to pick up their newspaper.

        Keep in mind, this is not the woods. I live in a simple, little house, not in town but I can see the intersection and train tracks from my porch. Anyway, what I was not expecting was a full-grown hawk to swoop down and land on my porch railing.

        At first, I thought maybe it was going to help itself to some of the food in Boxcar’s bowl, or maybe drink from his water dish, but then I realized that couldn’t be the case.  Hawks eat live things, not dry, crunchy nuggets. I just sat still and waited to see what it was going to do.  Boxcar didn’t at all seem interested, although I’m sure he heard it land on the railing.

        I was wishing I had my camera but knew if I stood up to go and get it, the thing would fly off.  I also knew that Boxcar was way too large for that hawk to attack, besides, it appeared content to just sit there looking around.  Every now and then it would wipe the sides of its beak on the wood rail, like it was cleaning it or something.

    So far, none of my neighbors had noticed it sitting here.   Finally, it lifted off and positioned itself on a branch just next to the railing it had been on.  I figured if it could move around then so could I.  I went into the house and got my camera.  Here is what was so interested in us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Stay tuned for the next exciting adventure.