The Case Of The Feral Dogs

The Case of The Feral Dogs 
(My dream of November 15, 2009)

Early this morning, I was attending a party in Cottonwood. It was about 4:30 AM. The house? A pastoral country home, parents gone of course, a bunch of kids drinking beer. Other than that, it was well behaved. It seemed that I was the only adult there. As I walked in the front door, I noticed a long narrow stairway to my left. It rose, gently twisting clockwise about ninety degrees. To my right, the stairway continued downward into a basement area. There were kids standing all along the stairway. Surprisingly, the music wasn't too loud. 

The young folks didn't seem to mind me mingling in with them. I strolled up to the top of the stairs, spoke amiably with a few of them. I'm not sure why I was there really. It was all quite surreal. I didn't know anybody. I was clearly way older than any of them. I remember cautioning a few of the young folks on the dangers of drinking too much. We spoke of things. They were all quite polite. 

Then, I left - on foot.

It was a country dirt road, lined with country wire fence on either side. There was enough moonlight to see, plus I knew that the sun would soon appear. The road took a path across a small stream with a large tree in the middle. The stream was bordered by what you would expect, riparian trees and bushes. One such tree had grown right smack in the middle of the stream on a small island, and it was likewise situated in the middle of the dirt road that bisected the stream. To ford the stream would require getting my feat wet only up to my ankles, but taking my shoes off would solve that problem.

As I considered this, another issue arose. To my left, I became aware of a presence. It wasn't sound or sight that gave them away; more of a sixth sense that something was in the tall grass. Then, looking back to my right, I noticed that there were cows bunched together near the big tree in the middle of the stream. They were agitated, clearly. I then heard the first rustling in the tall grass. Creatures, multiple creatures, moving to my left, just off the road. The cows up ahead reacted with still more nervousness, huddling near the tree on that small island.

The distance back to the house was only a half mile or so, and I knew that there was also a house about a half mile ahead. These cows should not have been out free to roam on the road to begin with. It was a little bit of a mystery to me, but I stayed calm. I moved closer to the grass from which I heard the sounds, and I caught my first glimpse of a dog. It appeared to be a pit bull mix, black, body posture was projecting hunt mode. I heard other sounds off to the left, then saw other dogs, perhaps three or four. They were working as a team, as a pack. 

I have had some experience working border collies, and I understand a little of a dog's instinct to hunt. I also know of instances when dogs have become feral and killed livestock. There are even some cases in which people's pets have gone out at night, packed up, and killed as a team, returning home to their unsuspecting owners. Where I live, a person can shoot a dog attacking his livestock. But, here I was, stuck in the middle, between a pack of dogs on the hunt, and several bovine huddling around a tree in the middle of a stream.

Then, startled, I heard a crashing noise from behind me! It came from the opposite side of the road. I turned quickly, remembering that when any of the canine species hunts, they will use pack members to distract while others come around from behind. I thought for certain that I had become prey. To my surprise however, I was not met by the gleaming fangs of a dog, but a small red brown calf instead. It had been hiding stealthily in the grass right behind me. 

The dogs were after the calf. 

Of course, I thought, why go for a full grown cow with a young calf handy? The calf recognized the fact that I had created just the diversion that it needed to run back to the safety of the cows who were hunkering by the tree. As it did so, the dogs closed in. I raised my hands, and I growled loudly in a low baritone voice. As one dog cut away from the others, I made a squealing kind of sound, the kind of sound made by prey, high pitched, which diverted the dog's attention for just a split second. It worked. The calf was back with the three larger cows, leaving me in the road alone. 

Facing the dogs at all times, I walked slowly backwards. They kept a cautious distance. I reached the stream. We (me, the cows and the calf) walked across the stream together, down the road for a ways, the dogs keeping their distance behind me. I was between the cows and the dogs. We came to a tee in the road, and a small ranch house. There was an open gate that I deduced to be the proper home for the cows. They seemed to think so too, as they walked through the gate with no hesitation. I closed the gate behind them and turned around to observe the dogs. They had vanished. 

After seeing that all was okay, I took the road to the left and began walking. The sun would be up soon, and for the next little while I would pay special attention to the goings on in the grass next to the road.