Today is a warm grass day that makes this Mastiff want to fall asleep under the weeping willow tree hanging over the lily pond where the frogs sun themselves on the big round leaves. I groove on words for a few minutes while rubbing my back against the ground watching the clouds grinning at me as they pass by. My heroic natural born Dad appears on the grapevine looking tired from age and worrying he won’t please the humans telling him what to do. I want to whisper on the silent current letting him know there’s a better life waiting in the guest room of mine and Kahu’s house. I table this notion for a while until I see the unfolding of my new beginning as a Dog Dad to the duckling tots sitting on my ear flaps.
Otto sprawls on the yard blanket looking like he’s living in the promised land. He’s a wonderment to the bloodhound world and nature’s marvel in possessing an all-fur coat and bones that are heavier than the muscles bulging from my Mastiff body. We are two fine specimens the police want to add to their Elite Canine Unit. Fortunately, my Kahu stands his ground in refusing to donate Otto to do a thankless job.
Seconds later, my mind’s back on Biological Dad wasting away toiling for the man. I see him with his nose in the air picking up the scent of a lost hiker in the Northern hills not watching where he was going until he fell in a ravine and lay helpless waiting for a relentless Mastiff to find his broken body in a ditch wider than a mountain road. Men with useless noses drag the mangled hiker up the hill and toss him in an ambulance while Bio Dad rides in the patrol car pleased another life was saved but disgruntled to notice he had saved this life once before. And now he’s got the man’s scent lingering on his body. No signs he gives a thought to his progeny not knowing what happened to me after my hapless mother disappeared into another reality without looking back at the Mastiff Rescue Facility where I was left, and lost dogs are rarely found.