It is morning, and a mottled brown dog pads under the snowy cedars. She is a short, nondescript terrier blend – a pound puppy, a mix, a mutt. Yet, somewhere, hidden deep in her DNA, her body remembers her wolf ancestry. There is a wild core inside her brain, and when it’s activated, she feels alive.
under dog’s soft flesh /
a wolf runs wild in the snow /
in the purple dawn /
There are many wonderful smells out here – dogs marking their territory, squirrels and rabbits who are scratching in the undergrowth and trying to survive the winter. There are strange, wonderful, unidentified scents – sweet, bitter, musky. Each scent needs exploring.
The man calls but she does not answer. She hears him perfectly well. Sure, he grumbles and spits venom – wondering if she is deaf or stupid – or both. She could care less. Her neck prickles with every new scent. Her fur stands on end with every new noise. She feels sharp and strong – and daring.
There are fresh rabbit pellets under the cedar. The rabbit is must be near – right here, right now – watching her and trying to be still. The terrier sniffs the air, her muscles tense, ready for a chase.
where his nostrils steam /
rabbit rests under cedar /
in a nest of down //
Then, the rabbit twitches – barely – only an ear. Some distant sound caused him to move – and now his position is revealed! The mottled dog remembers the metallic taste of blood and the crunch of bone. She lurches, launches five swift bursts through the snow, causing her quarry to bolt. The rabbit bolts on, snow making hissing sounds as he kicks it behind him in in his flight.
ancient memory /
on a wolf’s swift feet – /
snow splinters and flies /
“Ow, girl! My shoulder hurts when you pull the leash like that!”
Still, the woman isn’t unkind. She sits on her heels and pats her terrier, looking into her deep brown eyes. Her mottled dog isn’t happy but is appeased.
Once again the man calls. The woman and her dog look back at their house. The dog drops and piddles. She sniffs the spot twice, then looks at the woman.
“I know, girl. I know.”
possibilities – /
new tracks lead away from home – /
untouched snow hardens //
Brenda Harsham. Dog Prints in Snow.
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This post is written for the weekly Līgo Haibun challenge. Our task was to write a haibun based on one of two photos submitted by Brenda Harsham of Friendly Fairy Tales. I hope you will drop by and read Brenda’s writing – and the rest of the haibun submitted by our fellow storytellers.
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Tagged: dog, dog prints, haibun, rabbit, trapped, Weekly Līgo Haībun Challenge, winter, wolf
