Ah, the Blossoms and the Barbs of May!

The thing about life in mid-May is that just when you’re letting yourself be taken in by the beauty of the blossoms, the quills might come flying out and re-arrange your whole evening.

At least they did for me –- or rather my dog — just last night.  Since Rocky is pretty closely connected to me, and vice versa, I felt as if I almost had a mouth full of pain, too.   And then, of course, there was the vet bill afterwards to top it off.  He actually didn’t share much in that part of the experience, come to think of it.

It all started with a simple walk in the woods, the kind we have several times a day. This, to me, is a good part of the reason to have a dog in the first place:  you can’t help but spend some time on those inviting paths when you have a member of the family who is always eager to head out there.  Where we’ve been living for the past 12 years, there is no shortage of trails, either.  (Word has it that this will also be so in our new location, so that’s welcome news).

During the several years we were in between dogs – a time that went on too long, from my point of view – I began to notice that none of us spent much time in the back woods anymore.  Our black lab, Zeke, had made sure that we became fully acquainted with our property and beyond; but after he left us, it seemed that we all had plenty of other things to do around the house. They must have been very important things, of course.  And there were also all the faraway games for various kids’ sports, causing us to jump in the car and drive miles away from our own quiet sanctuary out back.

Thank goodness that Rocky, a German Shepherd mix, came bounding into our lives, from an animal shelter close to the Canadian border. Once again walking in the woods with a creature who was thrilled to be there became a daily event; I felt as if our lives re-gained some balance with nature.

So it was that, last evening, before heading out in the car, I took Rocky where we’d been together about a thousand times before – on a whole network of trails where the seasons always offer up something fascinating.  As we started out, I let myself just take in every flowering and singing thing around us, beginning with the glorious tree right outside our front door and continuing with tiny bursts of color near the trail as well as birds in the canopy.   I was ready to have a peaceful, restorative walk.

Rocky, however had other plans.  What does a dog care about peace and restoration anyway?  He has all the quiet he needs, lying around inside; it’s excitement he craves.  Intrigue, some kind of chase, conflict!  These light up a dog’s life… in the moments that he’s not getting stroked by a family member or licking a plate in the dishwasher, that is.

When I heard him barking up a tree, I wasn’t too worried – often the creatures are clearly unreachable.  But when I saw him pouncing on something right on the ground, I knew we were in trouble. Sure enough, he came skulking by me soon, head down and paws trying in vain to get rid of all the quills around his snout.

In that this had happened to him twice before, and he’s not a dumb dog, you’d think it might have crossed his mind to get the heck away when he had the chance.  Nope. So off we went to the 24-hour veterinary hospital, where we waited for about an hour because a pit bull was already on the table, having a couple of hundred quills removed from her very different looking (well, fortunately I didn’t see it, just heard about it in great detail from her traumatized owners) snout.

My plans to go out to dinner with my son foiled by a porcupine, I thought about all of the papers I might have at least graded, if I’d just brought them with me to the waiting room. Once Rocky got in and went  under, however, I did head over to have a quick visit with my son, and got to see him – looking so tall and grown up– running full tilt towards me from a game of kickball on a beautiful field.  If we’d gone out to dinner, as planned, I don’t think I would have seen that; now, it’s an image I’ll treasure.

On the way home, Rocky stood statuesque in the back seat, perhaps considering what he’d learned, but more likely just sniffing the beautiful air of a spring evening. The smell of so many blossoms wafted towards both of us, and we were content.