Invitation To Hike

Half a century ago, somewhere in the Midwest, I was out and about seeing what was to be seen in the little towns along my way. At the edge of one town I stopped at a picturesque little railroad station that was no longer in use but which had been converted into a museum with the improbable hours of something like 1:00-3:30 p.m. on Tuesdays. It was not Tuesday so that was disappointing. I knew I would never be back this way again to see what quaint and curious little train treasures the museum held. There was no one around to even ask about it.

I gave the train station a quick walk-around, admired what I could see of the museum through the windows, and was looking for what to do next when across the railroad tracks I spotted a large, sturdy farmyard dog, loose on the prowl, and gazing steadily at me. It gave me a start to realize how tall the deep-barreled beast was. Its well-muscled shoulders would reach well above my knees. The dog was big enough to give me trouble if it decided to. I tilted my head just a bit, submissively, and grinned the universal mammalian signal for "I Have Teeth But No Threat Here. Friends?) The dog swung its head away and glanced up the railroad tracks, it took a few steps away. I felt that I had been dismissed. Then the big dog looked back at me and nodded an unmistakable invitation to take a hike with it up the tracks, it pranced a little. Oh, I wanted to go, but no, railroad tracks are not safe for a woman, so I did a little thank-you dance and we went our separate ways.

This is a life memory that I enjoy very much, for the sense of adventure that I felt at the time, and for the rapport between the dog and I. Good dog.

Invited To Hike By A Farm Yard Dog Loose On The Prowl

by Annmarie Throckmorton, copyright 2023