My Kind Of People

There are these hawks in our park. They are, I think, relatively young but they're huge and they're unflappable, if you'll excuse the expression. We don't see them often but I don't know that it's by design because when we do see them they can be quite close to the paths and come during crowded times of day.

On Sunday I stood down in the Grand Central Station of off leash hours surrounded on all sides by people and dogs and half finished lattes and as A turned to speak to me she said, "Oh look" and pointed. Both hawks were sitting high up in a nearby tree. Even from there they looked like mob bosses with evil intentions. Suddenly A turned, laughed a little and said, "Where's Eddie? Should we shield him?"

R chimed in, "He'd be good eatin'!"

"Oh, I don't know," she replied, "I think he'd put up a fight."

"Sure he would but once they got him he's a good eatin' dog. Meaty thighs, easy to pull apart."

Not one to leave well enough alone I added, "Probably good brains, too."

"Yeah!" R enthused, "I bet he has all those nooks and crannies and you can just dig in."

"Like eating lobster bodies," I agreed.

"Now Buce isn't a good eatin' dog," R declared.

"Probably not," A agreed.

"Too stringy," I said.

Some, I suppose, might be offended by this discussion but, given my penchant for graveside humor, I loved it. I couldn't wait to write it all down and tell the internet what cool friends I have. Honestly, it's humor like this that makes me trust I'm hanging with the right folks.

Other kinds of folks, though, do not understand. We'll occasionally get shushed by another dog owner in the park or cause someone to clutch their imaginary pearls as we go on. They don't get it. It doesn't mean we don't care about the dogs. Far from it. It's that kind of imagination, the ability to put ourselves in the shoes of an ambitious and, pardon me again, peckish young hawk that means we can also see into the delectable brains of our canine buddies.

Checking through my Flickr contacts' photos this morning I came across a really lovely photo by Amber Marlow Blatt. It shows a, frankly pretty hot, guy sitting on a step with his doberman, looking down into the dog's eyes as the dog stretches his neck up toward his master. I fell in love with both of them right then. Come on, a boy and his dog? That is rarely not white hot.

Then I read the caption. Both boy and dog are neighbors of Amber's. The photo came from a shoot Amber did for them recently because the dog, Asa, was very sick. As a matter of fact they happened to be taken on the day before Asa died. All of the photos from the shoot are heartbreakingly beautiful. You know what happens next.

Please go check out Amber's peek into the last day of a great dog and then...go on...say it with me...Treats For Everyone. I see a little shrimp in my cats' future and perhaps a marrow bone for a certain tasty little mixed breed working dog. Godspeed, Asa. May you find all your favorite things wherever you may go.