Pied Piper of Pooches -

I had started working on another post, updating you on belly dancing from this past week and some other stuff, but decided to interrupt myself for this late breaking post.  I will update you on belly dancing later.  For now, I must tell you about my impromptu trip to Knotty Pines this weekend.  Most of you know what Knotty Pines is, but for those of you out there who might not know (if there is anyone), Knotty Pines is a cabin in the woods of Mentone, Alabama that I own (until I cannot afford it anymore) with two of my best friends Darryl and Lawrence.  We bought it in 2008 – just before property values decided to give us all The Finger – and named it “Knotty Pines.”  Anyway, Fall has arrived, the temperature is cooling down and I decided that a weekend amongst the colored leaves sitting on the porch with a glass of wine was in order.  Most of my friends are too chicken shit to stay at the cabin alone, and Lawrence swears that one time he stayed here alone and woke up with the door unlocked – when he is certain he locked it – but we don’t really believe him.  Last night was uneventful.  I arrived after dark and just had time to settle in, watch a missed episode of Grey’s Anatomy and have a dinner of chocolate chip cookies before it was time for bed. 

I slept in this morning and had a lazy breakfast, veggie sausage biscuit (a chocolate chip cookie) and coffee, on the porch.  I was singing at the top of my lungs until I realized that my new neighbors were home and might not find it peaceful to wake up to me singing “Hold On” by Wilson Phillips – no matter how beautifully I was singing it (no comments).  I warshed up (that’s how you have to say “washed up” in the country) the dishes and put on my walking clothes.  The  road (formerly dirt, now semi-paved with hints of potholes) leading from 117 down Country Road 642 to the cabin is about 1.25 miles long (right, Darryl?) so I figured I would walk up and back to get my Fall fitness on.  I hadn’t been walking three minutes when I saw a mid-sized tawny colored critter jump from the road into the woods at the sound of my approach (light of foot I am not).  I was forming the breath to say “here kitty kitty” when logic registered and sent a message to my “Aw, there’s a cute animal” clouded brain that perhaps that critter was a little too big to be the type of kitty that I would want to cuddle.  From that point on I was on “wild animal alert.”  I didn’t turn back, but as I continued my walk I did think up various scenarios of ways to escape a mauling from said wild animal in the event of a face-off.   I thought of grabbing a large stick and bopping it over the head or jamming it in its jaws as it went for my jugular; I thought of running at it full speed while wildly waving my hands in the air and hollering at it (what would I holler? I don’t know.  I guess I could holler “get” – that’s what you say in the country when you want an animal to go away – it’s sort of pronounced “geeAT” with an escalation in volume towards the end – it’s quite an effective deterrent); I thought of telling it I was currently under the protection of the local brown bears and that messing with me would bring a whole shit storm of trouble to him and his like (bluffing of course).  But as I continued to think up scenarios I passed the spot where I saw the critter jump into the woods and didn’t see or hear a thing.  I just kept on walkin’, yes indeed.

As I neared a house towards the end of the road where I would turn around I heard a dog bark (not unusual in the country, so I continued).  As I got right in front of the house where the dog was barking I saw several more dogs before I realized that the fence was open.  All at once seven (yes, I said SEVEN) country dogs (some looking a little sketchier than others) came barreling out through the fence towards me – all barking.  Well now, some people made of lesser stuff might have panicked at this moment, ran in fear, assumed blood would surely be shed (their own).  I, however, hold special power over dogs – regardless of the number.  If you followed the Ireland blog (and many of you did) you know that dogs from all over the village would follow me – sit with me at the harbor, join me on walks, whatever.  I was basically the Pied Piper of Pooches.  As the pack of dogs (and 7 definitely qualifies as a pack) was about half-way to me, I came to a stop in the middle of the road, stood confident and called forth my most powerful doggie voice and said “What are you doggies doing.”  One by one tails began to wag and dog butts began to curl in towards their middles to form that “oh, please oh pleases pet me doggie U-shape.”  They simply did not stand a chance against the power of my doggie voice.  It is more powerful than vampire glamor (if you know what that is) – oh yes.  The pack surrounded me on all sides begging for attention.  A couple jumped up on me, but I corrected that poor behavior right away and let them know that would not be acceptable.  The one I identified as the alpha dog ran back to the house and came back to me with his bone – a clear sign of acceptance and respect.  I petted him, bone in mouth, and that’s when I had a brainstorm.    I still had to walk back to the cabin through the area where I had spotted the “wild animal” jumping into the woods.  I was comfortable with my plans (a) and (b) for dealing with an encounter – but plan (c) - the brown bear protection bluff - was shaky at best.  So, I solicited - and was granted protection from the alpha (score!).  The alpha gathered the necessary muscle to assure me safe passage home (I didn’t question his decision – even though one chosen mutt did look a little small, but small mutts can often be the fiercest).  I headed home surrounded by my guard dog detail and returned to my door unmolested by wild animals.  I paid the dogs in Wheat Thins and they are now resting up on my porch (guarding detail can be very tiring apparently) before they head home. 

So I will leave you to go sit on the porch where the breeze is blowing leaves off the trees, country dogs are taking a load off and gunshots are echoing in the distance – sweet home away from home Alabama. 

Life ain’t nothing but a funny funny riddle. . . . .thank God I’m a country girl.