|raisedbymoogles (raisedbymoogles) wrote,|
@ 2011-07-11 22:13:00
Follows this. Other than that I have no explanation.
The instant I set foot inside the rickety house, I was accosted by a dozen cold, wet noses. Like with the spotted dog and his friend the border collie, I was dizzied by diversity. Scrappy little terrier mixes shared space with a white pit bull and a Rhodesian ridgeback; two huskies displaced a beagle, who dove right back in between them with an indignant yowp. All of them were absorbed in sniffing me, snuffling my knees and hands and shirt until I squirmed away from their ticklish inquisitiveness with a giggle. "You're certainly not a shy bunch," I observed.
As if to prove me right, a big bloodhound casually reared up and planted his massive paws on my shoulders. I staggered under his weight, but he didn't seem to noticed, nosing at my face and neck calmly until I surrendered to the inevitable and scratched his ear. The hound wurfed, tail wagging, and all his friends surged about my knees again, demanding their own ear-scratches. "Geez, guys, I only got two hands!" I protested, but I did the best I could to give them all some attention. Not easy when those two huskies were so pushy.
"Rrf," said someone from further inside the house, and like a switch being flipped, the dogs backed off. I staggered a bit at the loss, and recovered to face the largest dog I'd ever seen.
The bushy coat and solid build proclaimed him part Newfoundland, though he had a longer muzzle. His coat was mottled, blue tick with an undercoat of rust over his chest and shoulders. His eyes were shockingly blue. All the dogs were looking to him in almost eerie silence - a silence in which the crackle of a paper bag was as loud as a gunshot.
"Hey!" I protested at the spotted mix, who ignored me to stick his head in my bag of belongings. He came out again with my keys in his mouth - "Those again," I groaned, "can't you leave them alone?" The dog gave me a jaunty tailwag and trotted fearlessly to the big Newfie mix, dropping the keys at his feet like an offering, nosing at the gleaming red Autobot symbol keychain that held my life together.
"So sue me," I told him, feeling foolish as hell. "I like the Autobots."
The Newfie looked directly at me then, and I nearly fell in a dizzy faint. There was something - more than human about those eyes, something ancient and wise and terrifyingly compassionate. I held still as he approached, then acted on some long-forgotten instinct and knelt to offer a hand.
"Hi," I whispered. "Your friend there brought me over. I hope - I hope there's something I can do to help you all."
The Newfie seemed to mull over my words, his huge shaggy head tilted downward. He lowered his muzzle to nose into my palm, and I held my breath until he gave my fingers a lick. He then proceeded to gently yet thoroughly wash my face.
"Ack - pth - hey! Hee!" I sat down with a bump, and was immediately surrounded again by dogs eager to get in on the fun and licked half senseless.
At that point, I was pretty much part of the pack.