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I have been chronicling my recent trip to Washington, DC during the past few days in hopes of abating the anxiety that occasionally builds from my recent layoff. Actually, the trip has done wonders for my outlook and I feel more hopeful than I did, even a week ago.
Meet Big Boy. He’s a 115 lb canine from the family of Presacanarios. His daunting face and wide head give him an overall mean appearance, but really, he is as playful as a puppy. Big Boy is about 4 years old and was abandoned by his previous owner; he was found wandering down a dirt road near the St. John’s Reserve. Rescued by a local woodsman, this animal now resides with his rescuer and has been well taken care of ever since.
I have come to know Big Boy through my extended visits to Melbourne; I house sit for his family while they vacation in Alaska every summer. Big Boy loves to chase balls (I use a partially deflated basket ball), and enjoys long walks. He also loves to play in the nearby canal which both scares and irritates me because I don’t want him to get eaten by a gator, nor do I want to try and bathe this massive creature, who weighs every bit as much as I do, after he wallows in the mud bogged canals of the St. Johns Reserve. Even still, Big Boy is my companion during my early morning runs; I feel safer running down the two mile stretch of packed dirt clay that abuts Malabar Road, accompanied by my four-legged chaperone.
Big Boy’s interests are basic: eat, play, nap, and chase small critters. He lives his day as a hunter of sorts, groveling in mud treasures mounded along side of the five acre property owned by his master. He recently brought home a prize which gave pause to my outdoor enthusiasm: an entire side of decomposing hog ribs complete with crawling ants and a stench that would draw a nest of hungry vultures. As I approached Big Boy, he gnawed on the bones of the decayed animal and playfully looked up at me -willing to share his indulgence.
On another occasion during an early morning run, 10 minutes into my warm up, I happened upon what I thought were sticks, scattered in the road, right in the path of my running. As I approached, I could see they were not ordinary “sticks.” They were, much to the gnawing fear brewing inside me, half eaten legs of an animal-perhaps a wild hog or something. At this point, I could no longer contain the uncomfortable foreboding feeling-creeping over me, and with swift resolve I picked up my pace.
With Big Boy running alongside of me, I felt safe from would be attackers, albeit if they were human; however, I was not prepared for the possibility of confronting an animal attacker. My mind replayed scenes of movies where animals took out humans, limb from limb. Good thing I was running in the morning, I thought to myself, at least my remains would be found by high noon. Eventually the end of the dirt road met with tarmac and I entered civilization complete with paved side walk. Big Boy loved running next to the open field where a barb wire fence separated him from a pasture of cows. He didn’t lunge at them, or even bark. He seemed content knowing that he was with me, running in the open – a care free canine.
Big Boy ran around throughout the course of my run, occasionally jumping in and out of the nearby canal to cool himself and hunt for – whatever! The lesson I took away that day is simple. Not everything is what it appears to be; not all half eaten animal legs come from the attack of a predator, and life can be a little more enjoyable in the breath of a carefree moment. Big Boy offered these things as well as the safety of his daunting presence; his stature alone steeled my resolve: I am safe, and I am content, in my Journey Through the Stages of Unemployment.
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