May 25

I woke up to the delicate sounds of rain caressing the roof of our bedroom. It was the first rainy day in quite some time. I could google the exact day but I rebel against that. Rain drummed on the roof of the house as I enjoyed the day inside. By mid-afternoon the skies had begun to clear and the rain ceased to fall.

When I stepped out the front door I breathed in the freshness of our world renewed by the recent downpour. I enjoyed the intensity of the scents that pervaded the air as I stood on our porch and surveyed the flowers gleaming with drops of water. The rain had stopped in time to start the bbq. A treat for dinner; T-Bone steaks.

Dinner completed, Honey and I went for our nightly walk. The fresh rainfall adds a cleanness, a renewed feeling to our venture. Walking up our street we observed the clouds and the clear sky behind, they appeared close enough to touch. The mountains below added a serenity to the darkness of the sky. Holding hands we enjoyed our connection as we continued higher.

That’s when the barking started.

I have a love-hate relationship with dogs. I love the way they give, their loyalty and their unconditional love for their masters. I hate the way they bark. Yappy little dogs, or large Pit Bulls I have always disliked a barking dog.

Our neighbour at the top of the road has a large parcel of land, perfect to let your dog run free. They have horses and an orchard. It is an awesome property. We have walked past this place many times in the past two months and still Bella has to announce her presence. She sees us from across the field and starts barking. It doesn’t stop.

We stopped and enjoyed the amazing view stretched in front of us. Bella came running up to the fence. And barked. Krista sighed, she talked to Bella, she pleaded with Bella. Bella barked some more. I  tried to ignore her and my mind wandered to a day many years ago.

I delivered flyers when I was young. I was twelve when I helped my fourteen-year-old sister Gail deliver flyers to our neighbourhood. I will never forget walking up to the mailbox of this one house. I put the papers into the box. With a rush and a howl a large German Shepard barged out of the back yard. It was barking with an aggression that made my hair stand up in fear. I dropped my bundle of flyers and fled into the road and down the street. The barking continued. My wife pulled my hand and gestured to me to continue our walk. Bella was not giving up.

We wandered up a little further to the top of the road and hid from Bella’s sight. The silence that greeted us was soon drowned out by the sound of crickets serenading the evening. My wife commented on how she could hear more traffic than she has lately. I only heard the crickets.