Big foot

January 31, 2015

Two weeks ago I noticed one of my Doberman guard dogs, Big Foot was curled up in a corner. When I examined her closer there was a gaping wound on her neck. It’s hard to say how it happened, it could have been a collar rash…a bite from a scorpion, snake or monitor lizard. But whatever caused it, it looked bad. She was in a bad state. Perhaps 8/10 serious.
I felt an acute wave of shame and regret following this discovery. As a rule I play with the dogs while checking on their vitals every morning. It’s a SOP that I wrote and carry out religiously everyday. However lately due to the pressing need to hit the field one hour before dawn I’ve been skipping these daily checks and now the wound appears infected and there’s a distinct possibly Big Foot is going to die because I let him down! This just sucks.

I happen to be especially fond of big foot. As his temperament is so undoberman! Hardly a no neck soldier dog. Much closer to a golden retriever. Big Foot is a hippie dog, if was a man, he would probably be sporting circular John Lennon rose tinted glasses and wearing one of those ‘same shit, different day’ tees – the quientessential odd one out who always has this look of bewilderment why the rest of the pack are always so serious. Dogs don’t nearly have to be functional to be endearing – in the case of Big Foot, he fulfills the essential function of connecting me to a rare currency that comes from prolonged spells in the field. Humanity. That why I love him.

Anyway to cut a long story short. I quarantined Big Foot in my room and took great care to clean and dress the wound daily along with putting him on a recovery diet. Fortunately the wound healed marvelously and now he’s running around like the happy energetic dog that he used to be.

Close call.



‘Of course I still believe in the idea of paradise. Only now at this point in my life. I am not so sure it’s a pristine stretch of beach in some shark infested island somewhere in the middle of the Pacific where cartographers may have missed. Or one of those picture postcard scenes with snow capped mountain and rolling hills where the skies are so paraffin blue it hurts your eyes. I don’t deny that’s how I once saw the idea of paradise in the moment of my youth. But I now know something that I had never known before – paradise is not some place because it’s not physical, it’s cerebral…emotional…it’s all up there in your head – it’s how you feel for a moment in your life when you’re a part of something that makes you whole and complete. And if you’re lucky enough to be in that moment…then you have all the power to stop time and that moment can last forever….that to me is how I see the idea paradise.’

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