Arlenes World

It”s what I tell people who always come up to her, giving homage to her beauty and her gentle nature. They leave, remembering her name but not even knowing nor inquiring about mine. I shrug good-naturedly. It”s as it should be. For Shadow’s part, she accepts their praise and accolades with a queenly graciousness. As if it is her rightful due. Though she finds herself a dog in this time, there is a deep, hidden knowledge of being something more, back in another place, an ancient time. Long ago, back when the sands of time were young. Time blurs memories. We forget the past. Or we revised and twist it to our liking. But my memory about this is very sharp and clear, still, to this day. I will never forget the first time that I saw the dog, that later I would come to know as Shadow. It was the fall of 1996. I had just relocated to a new community south of Lake Buena Vista, Florida, Disney territory. Driving back and forth to work took a good hour one way. But I didn”t mind. Most of the roads were long stretches of grass and trees with very little signs of human habitats. The particular group of streets that I lived on were nicknamed “the animal section” for two reasons. One, all the streets were named after animals. Second, because it was sparsely populated, a lot of people dropped their unwanted animals there. So, needless to say, that early in the morning, while I was driving to work, it was not unusual to see a pack of mangy dogs running along the side of the road. Normally I would not have given a second thought to the group except for the black beauty that ran a few seconds behind the pack.

The sun glistened off her sleek short black fur. Long slender legs gracefully galloped effortlessly behind a comically tightly curled white-tipped tail. She had a long muzzle with pointed ears and a slim but muscular body. Her bearing was that of arrogance and strong-headedness. I slowed down and drove cautiously, amused at the black beauty”s attics. She would stop every so often and sniff something along the side of the road. Then, looking up, seeing her companions getting far ahead of her, she would hurriedly race to catch up with them. Yet time after time she would continue to lag behind the pack, caught up in her own curiosity. You could tell just by looking at her that she did not belong with this mangy crew. I could imagine the fright the beauty”s owners would be going through when they found their prized dog missing from their yard. I quickly scanned the couple of houses that dotted the roadside but saw no one outside searching. As I continued on my way I said a silent prayer to St. Francis of Assisi, patron saint of animals, to watch over the entire pack but especially the special friend they had attracted along the way. Then I shrugged dismissively, as I finally passed the pack. I had my own problems to occupy me during my hour long drive. I didn”t give the meeting a second thought for she was someone else”s problem; not mine. How wrong I was, I would discover a couple of evenings later! After dinner it was my habit to ride my bicycle around the neighborhood. The streets were well lit. The autumn weather was cool and breezy. It was a much appreciated respite from the oppressive humidity of the past summer. The streets were horseshoed shaped and sparsely populated with a few single family houses intermixed with several duplexes. The streets were named after animals, all in alphabetic order, beginning with “A” and going as far as “R”, I think. I would ride up and around each street on my side of the block until I got to racoon. At this point I would turn around and do the same on the opposite side of the block until I came back to my duplex. It was a way of relaxing and unwinding from the day”s stress. Plus it was an excellent way to exercise after sitting behind a desk all day.

So everyday I looked forward to my evening ride. Along the way I would see an occasional raccoon or armadillo. Sometimes I would hear the sounds of deer running in the wooded areas. But I never had a care that I would meet up with anything threatening. Until that night. As I was riding my bicycle at a pretty fast pace around the streets I could hear something running behind me. Looking over my shoulder I saw a dark form with four legs catching up to me quickly. I slowed down, thinking that it was a dog and knowing that dogs don”t like the movement of the bike wheel spokes . But I wasn”t afraid because I use to have several dogs and loved animals. After all, wasn”t my patron saint, St. Francis of Assisi. So I stopped the bike and turned to greet the owner of the pounding paws. My breath caught a little in my throat. There standing in front of me was a dark, ominous four legged form, so black that it almost blended into the night. I had no idea how this darkness caught up with me so quickly. We both stood where we were, neither of us coming any closer to the other. I cautiously started to get back onto my bike and ride away. As if sensing this the blackness began to move and approach me. In the light of the overhead street lamp, I could see it better now. But this did little to assuage my inner uneasiness. The forehead was furrowed, stuck in a frown, it seemed. The short, pointed ears faced forward, alert. It”s body was muscular and taunt. I had the impression a coiled rattler readied to strike. Later, one day, I would prove right about the snake comparison. But at that time, this creature made me more than a little uneasy. As the dog came closer and closer into the light, my eyes could discern more details. The body wasn”t completely black; the long slender legs were brown halfway down and her face had some brown markings. The eyes, though; they were deep and dark and intensely shinning up at me. I gulped. I knew that no matter how fast I pedaled my bike I would not out distance this one.

There was no way around it. I had to stay and deal with the dog the only way I knew how. “Hi, there, sweetheart. Taking your evening walk like me?” I cheerfully asked while hopefully looking around for the dog”s master. The animal just stare up at me, silently, neither barking nor panting. Not making any noise at all. “Where”s your mommy or daddy, little one,” I continued as I sent out positive, non-threatening vibes in the dog”s direction. She let me pet then stroke her head and eventually wagged her tightly curled tail. Still not seeing anyone coming around the corner to take ownership, I came to the conclusion that this dog had run away from its home. Since there were only a handful of houses in the neighborhood and thinking that I had seen one of the local children with a dog similar to this one, I walked my bike to the nearest house. The black dog followed closely behind me. “Excuse, me, but is this your dog?” I inquired to the owner of the first house. The woman shook her head and quickly closed the door almost in the dog”s nose. I went to the next house where a little girl answered the door. “Hi, sweetheart.” I looked down to see if there was any recognition between girl and pet. There wasn”t even though the little girl nervously giggled as the stray rudely sniffed her. The dog”s intense manner frightened me, especially for the child. The mother and father quickly came to the door. The aroma of dinner drifted out ahead of them. The dog smelled it also and was trying to get pass the little girl and into the house. I grabbed some of her short fur putting my body between the dog and the little girl. As the dog tried belligerently to get around me I asked the parents if this was their dog. “No, we don”t own a dog.” “Oh, well, would you know if she belongs to anyone in the neighborhood?” They laughed, shook their head and went inside the house. I looked down at the stray and shrugged. She didn”t look too happy with me but I was all that she had. So we continued to the next house, reluctantly, together. “Well, hello, there, you two,” I was greeted by a friendly elderly man. “What can I do for you?” he asked. “Good evening. I found this dog running around the streets and wondered if she belonged to you”