Hide and Seek

four and a half feet from the tip of the flat black nose to the base

of his tail. Standing on his hind legs he'd be seven feet tall, I

guessed. As big as a bear.

Of bastard parentage, I think now. Somethingof the Great Dane about

the head. Something of the wolf in the set of the shoulders.

The pitchfork and axe handle seemed like toys.

A pair of tin soldiers was what we were.

No axe handle was going to crack that skull. No ridiculous garden

implement was about to pierce that hide. My brain computed the heft

and sinew of both of us and compared it with an old sick dog's and we

came up looking like sparrows.

I could see the mad strangeness in those eyes.

He could crack us like eggs.

My fear of him was almost superstitious. My voice still echoed in the

room.

And I thought what if there are more of them? Beside me Steven went

rigid.

It stared at us. Head down, eyes rolled high and moving from one of us

to the other. Deciding. Black eyes deciding. A casual,

And I knew we were no surprise to him. Downwind or not, we'd been

expected. He was in no hurry. We were not a problem. It was a matter

of who to take down first. He could do it at his leisure.

The animal drooled.

Pleasure. Anticipation.

I'd seen enough dogs to know how it would happen. He'd drop the tense,

stiff-legged stance in favor of a very loose, very amiable-looking,

very doggy trot. The trot would turn quickly into a deadly lunge of

teeth and claws and muscle.

Nice dog. Watch the spume of blood. Good doggy.

The only way to go was to move before he did.

I used my smallest voice. "I'm going to move on him," I said.

It took Steven a while to respond. Then he told me okay and I knew he

was as ready as he was going to get.

I watched the slow drift of the animal's eyes from Steven back to me.

When they returned to Steve again, that would be the time.