The twilight bark was a beautiful thing. In the Disney movie 101 Dalmatians, the dogs used “the twilight bark” to send messages which at one point saved the puppies. Around there, though, it’s more like the midnight bark, the full moon bay or the dark of night rumble. And it’s happening tonight. Thank goodness it’s not my dog – this time.
It was my dog earlier this week. The full moon was very bright and my neighbors have a spotlight one could land a plane by. The result was a yard full of moving shadows as the breeze stirred the branches. The further result was my 90-pound wussy dog becoming a bundle of nerves and barking at random things and at random times. All night. At various times, I opened the window and yelled and I went out and yelled. Then he’d start up again. At 4 o’clock, fearful of a visit by the police or worse, I took pity on my neighbors (and myself) and brought him in. That innocuous statement is fraught with danger. Bringing him in has inherent dangers of destruction. This is the dog who, in his recent past, took my BlackBerry outside and made it into a mangled mess causing the folks at Verizon to shake their heads. So the idea of my sleeping with the demolition derby inside was troubling.
And he wasn’t tired. Apparently the barking had energized him. He came in hopping like he had consumed five cans of Red Bull. But I was very tired from his marathon of barking. I bundled up my valuables as best I could in my sleepy stupor and gave it up. Fortunately the appeal of my bed interested him and I wound up with a giant, furry bedfellow. For a small piece of the night, the neighborhood had peace.Tonight, it’s not mine. But the doggy telegraph is buzzing and I am awake. I hope some puppies somewhere are being saved or someone’s house is being protected. It’s not mine. He’s snoring in the sunroom.
