The dogs and I are getting to know the logging roads near my new house. Logging roads are familiar territory, even though these specific roads aren’t, and we have an established routine with them. If a road is gated but open to walk-ins, we never enter if somebody else’s vehicle is parked near the gate. If a road is open to vehicles, I cruise it in the truck to see if anyone else is around before settling on a place to walk.<\/p>\n
Don’t want to disturb any hunters or other dog walkers — and don’t want to disturb my own peace. My dogs raise alerts over strangers and have a habit of running at those they meet in the woods at full tilt, barking their heads off and mostly ignoring me when I demand they return.<\/p>\n
Yes, I know I’m supposed to have perfect control over my critters, including perfect recall. But they’re not perfect — and neither am I. The backwoods life we’ve always led together just hasn’t involved that many encounters with strangers in the woods. Most of the time, we’re the only domesticated creatures out there. So accept our flaws, please.<\/p>\n
This morning the new road was gated but with no vehicles, so in we went — and very quickly disturbed a bow hunter who was walking toward us on a side road talking on his cellphone. The dogs caterwauled and charged — though in a way that anybody who knows dogs would recognize as all bark and no bite. The hunter knew that and simply ignored them. They sniffed his legs then came back to me. I apologized profusely, and we each went our separate ways. I figured the hunter lived nearby and had walked in.<\/p>\n
Little did I know that we were exploring an unusually complex complex of roads, and as we took a side ATV trail, we were soon to intersect with that very same hunter again further along. This time, the dogs kept their distance, but little Ava carried on like the fearsome creature she imagines herself to be. Then, keeping up her caterwaul, she followed him at a distance, embarrassingly ignoring my demands for her return. When it looked as if Nadja was going to do a “monkey-see\/monkey-do” with Ava, the hunter stopped, turned around, leaned toward them and bellowed — at the top of his lungs, but with absolutely no hint of anger or malice — “OH YEAH???”<\/p>\n
Ava and Nadja wheeled, quit yapping, and — like cannonballs — sped back to the safety of Mom.<\/p>\n
I snapped the hunter a salute, called, “Thank you!” and after that presumably we both had peace.<\/p>\n
The reason I relate this is the non-news: The hunter, well-armed, never made the smallest gesture of aggression toward the dogs and never for a moment appeared to think he was in danger. I hate to admit it, but dogs and I have startled bow hunters in the woods two or three times over the decades, and the hunters are invariably polite and forgiving.<\/p>\n
Now … what if the hunter had been a cop? Off duty or on. Radley Balko writes about the huge and growing crime of puppycide<\/a>. Which is, of course, never counted as a crime because it’s committed by police in the name of “officer safety.” Lost cops stopping to ask directions have murdered household pets who came dashing up to them with less ill-intent than my dogs displayed to that hunter. Cops have killed five-pound lapdogs, claiming they felt “threatened.” They’ve shot dogs that were tied up. Dogs that were running away from them. Dogs that were hiding under tables. They shoot dogs even more casually than they shoot innocent human beings.<\/a><\/p>\n I can’t write the stuff Balko does about dog murders because it upsets me too much.<\/p>\n But you do gotta wonder: If well-armed hunters, startled in the woods where they expected to be alone, don’t feel the need to kill my dogs — if the media isn’t filled with tales of dogs slaughtered by mail carriers, UPS drivers, and meter readers (in fact, a meter-reader came into my yard on Friday, with all three dogs present, and simply handed them all dog cookies from his pocket) — what the hell is it with cowardly, bullying, ill-trained — and always exonerated, of course — cops?<\/p>\n —–<\/p>\n And yep — I’m back now! On Friday, the Comcast installer came and efficiently brought me home Internet — very zippy Internet, at that. Took me a while to get wireless working, but everything is good now and I’m ready to blog as usual once again.<\/p>\n I admit that, right now, my mind is focused on whether that shade of mauve is really the right one for the living room and how much rain will fall into the garage now that the roofer has torn the shakes off of two sides of it. And when I’m not thinking about that, I’m working on the Paladin book, which is due by the end of this month. Startlingly brilliant observations on politics and freedom just aren’t available for blogging this very minute. But … I’ll do my best to keep the blog entries coming three or four times a week and I promise not to turn <\/i>too many of them into meditations on the proliferation (and particular stickiness) of cobwebs in 100-year-old houses. \ud83d\ude42 <\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The dogs and I are getting to know the logging roads near my new house. Logging roads are familiar territory, even though these specific roads aren’t, and we have an established routine with them. If a road is gated but open to walk-ins, we never enter if somebody else’s vehicle is parked near the gate. If a road is open to vehicles, I cruise it in the truck to see if anyone else is around before settling on a place to walk. Don’t want to disturb any hunters or other dog walkers — and don’t want to disturb my own…<\/p>\n