Looking for a great holiday gift?
How about a Happy Hummingbird?
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Hummingbirds are amazing acrobats of the sky. These tenacious little birds are only 3 ¾ inches, but it doesn’t stop them from protecting their territory from much larger birds.
Be strong like a hummingbird.
Take this female ruby-throated home today and fly away.
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Our world is like a glass swan
Weroo, weroo, weroo
Incessant sounds fill the air
Weroo, weroo, weroo
Bulging throats beckon
Weroo, weroo, weroo
Find me and I’m yours
Weroo, weroo, weroo
Your heart’s fulfillment lies with me
Weroo, weroo, weroo
Spring is here, spring is here
Flies swarmed the carcass and I cursed. This was the tenth heifer that had been ripped to shreds. A low rumbling growl made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I spun away from the remains and came face to face with Fang. His lips curled back, teeth gleaming. Five other coyotes circled the carcass. What devil drove these beasts to confront a human in broad daylight? And since when did coyotes hunt in packs?
Fang glared with an almost human hatred. I raised my gun, shaking so hard the shot went wild. The coyotes didn’t flinch. Gramps thought the wild horses were a problem, thought they would ruin the field and contaminate our cattle. At least horses didn’t kill. I fumbled to reload, dropping a cartridge. Fang leaped before I could raise the weapon. I stumbled back, tripping over the carcass. Sixteen was too young to die.
Something flew over my head, crashing into Fang. Dominator, the chestnut stallion that led the wild horses, trumpeted his challenge. A strange reddish hue glimmered in Dominator’s eyes and the white patch on his head shone like some weird third eye. His sharp hooves made short work of Fang and the other crazed coyotes, trampling even those who tried to flee. Was this the same bold colt I had spotted only two years ago? I stared in wonder, thankful to be in his favor. Dominator seemed to nod once with an eerie intelligence. Then he trotted off.
Swallows flitted across the meadow on the far side of the fence. Henrietta leaned her head on the barrier and watched them soar. It was so much greener over there. Of course everything else looks greener when you’re stuck in prison. Gertrude and Mildred didn’t care. They were too dumb to notice, but Henrietta noticed. Ever since the night those strange creatures flew down from the stars and poked at her, Henrietta had begun to look at her life in ways she never even considered. It was as if a door had opened in her mind.
Most of the other cows thought only of chewing their cud, content to be herded to the machine that stole milk meant for their children. They didn’t even realize they were in a prison camp. All the other cows saw was limitless food. No matter that their children were taken away. Even Henrietta had forgotten about her calf until the strangers helped remind her.
And when the cows stop producing milk, what then? There was no happy retirement for their lifetime of slave labor. Dried up cows got trucked away, never to be seen again.
Well, Henrietta wasn’t going to wait to be taken to the slaughterhouse. She was going to escape and fly free like the swallows, maybe even find her calf. The plan was ready. Her rabbit friends had loosened the fence post. All she needed to do now was convince the bear to yank it down. Shouldn’t be hard at all.
After growing up with an untrained dog, I was determined to teach my puppy. The hopes were for a cross between Lassie and Rin Tin Tin. A friendly stranger introduced me to the Dog Owners Training Club of Maryland, and so began our education. Note the name says dog owners training, and not dog training. I had as much to learn about teaching a dog as Praeses had to learn about good behavior.
I took everything in stride, even when she talked back during class. And she really did talk back, even as she followed every command I gave her. Our education went so wonderfully, that I decided to enter her in an obedience trial. It wasn’t until we had earned the second leg of our Companion Dog degree that someone mentioned that Alaskan Malamutes were supposed to be difficult to train. She came in first place and was even the highest scoring novice at the show. The very next week at what should hav
e been our last novice trial, she sat across the ring during the sit stay and turned it into a sit say. I wanted nothing better than to crawl under the mats and hide I was so embarrassed. Needless to say, we were disqualified.
Praeses did earn her degree a few weeks later. In fact, she was the highest scoring novice Alaskan Malamute in the country for 1990. Her picture is published in the Alaskan Malamute 
Annual for 1991 on page 8. She’s listed as Heljwins Praeses Kaplan CD with a score of 197 out of 200. We hit our obedience wall with retrieving. Wooden dumbbells just weren’t her thing. Neither was bringing things back to me. While we didn’t compete at the higher levels, we did continue going to class for fun.
People always asked me if Praeses knew any tricks. Well, I only taught her two stupid pet tricks. She could balance a cookie on the end of her nose and catch it on command. A friend of mine needed a wolf for a movie he was making, so I also taught her to play dead. Praeses was a bit of a ham and did a stumble-stumble fall while doing it, complete with convincing death vocalizations. She was billed as Praeses the Wonder Dog. Ah, the joys of life at an art school. Did I mention she wore costumes? I still have her Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtledog costume in the basement. She was Michelangelo, complete with numb chucks and pizza.
Down the street from my apartment was an empty lot which was used as an unofficial off Lead Park. Every morning and evening the local pack would meet up and play. Even as a puppy Praeses knew she would be big and tried to throw her shoulder at the larger dogs. It was rather amusing to watch. Remember that smart little pup who sought out the shade? Well, every time the dog tag/chase game ran its wide circle around the park, Praeses cut across the center to catch the leader. Worked every time. Overall, Praeses was very smart, except when it came to tennis balls. She absolutely loved them…as snacks. In a matter of twenty minutes, while visiting a friend’s house, Praeses consumed three and a half balls. Luckily she was fine, but didn’t feel well for a few days. She also learned to wake me by bouncing her head on my bed. As a rule, Praeses wasn’t allowed on the furniture, but one day when I was sick, she looked at me with those big brown eyes. I could see the question in her eyes asking “can I?” All I did was nod my head slightly and say ok. She was on the bed in a flash and quickly curled up at my feet.
Praeses was more than a dog. She was a companion and friend, the anchor that kept me grounded in reality, never allowing my mind to drift careless when I needed to be focused. We moved out of the city when I got married and started a pack of our own. Praeses passed away in her sleep one month before my second daughter was born.
Several years after Tiger passed on I found myself living in downtown Baltimore. Grad school at MICA was fine, but city life just isn’t my thing. I missed the outdoors and going for walks in the park without fear. Walks at night were out of the question unless I had an escort. More importantly, I missed the kind of companionship only a dog can give. No strings, no demands, just unconditional love. Unfortunately, without a MD drivers license, adopting from the local animal shelter was out.
I’ve always felt it important to do research before adopting any pet. After all, a bad personality mix is worse than no pet at all. The needs of the pet have to be met. A stray cocker spaniel followed me home one day. It was cute, but grabbed my ankles when I tried to play, which I found annoying. Besides, she was way too small for me. I wanted a dog I could pet without having to bend over, one I wouldn’t be afraid of stepping on by accident. It wasn’t hard to find her a good home, but that left me still dogless.
While perusing a book in the library, I discovered the perfect breed of dog for me. The first line on the description read “don’t let the wolf like characteristics for this breed deter you.” I was hooked. The Alaskan malamute is a working dog and like most of the northern breeds, highly independent.
I found a local breeder through an ad, and after several interviews, was allowed to pick a dog from her litter. Half a dozen puppies ran and greeted me enthusiastically on that 95 degree humid day. One small fur ball said hello, then separate from the frenzied pack and crawled under the shade of a lawn chair. She was different, with shorter fur, and in my eyes smarter for getting out of the sun. I knew then, that she was the dog for me. As luck would have it, she was also ‘improperly coated’, which meant she wasn’t a show dog. That was fine. I wanted a companion, not a beauty pageant queen. So, for 200 dollars and a barter deal for a few sculptures, my new best friend came home with me.
Praeses is Latin for guardian or protector or in her case, protectoress. She more than lived up to her name, protecting me from every squirrel and dog in the neighborhood. Her very appearance, even as a puppy inspired some people in the city to cross the road, rather than walk past her on the sidewalk. If they only knew. Praeses, like wolves in the wild, lived by the hierarchy of the pack. I was her alpha, but most people were betas in her eyes, putting her one level below. I kept that secret safe.
Funds were tight as a student, and I gulped at our first vet visit when the receptionist handed us our bill and politely said, “That will be 150 dollars this time” It was the ‘this time’ that got me. Owning a dog is expense but worth it.
Our first night, I was so afraid she would have an accident in the house, that I didn’t sleep a wink. Every time she stirred, I would scoop her up and take her to the curb. We finally got our rhythms in sync after a week or so, and my roommate told me how to make a station chain in the kitchen to keep her out of mischief until she was house trained. Even if I could have afforded a crate, my research had mentioned that malamutes preferred tie outs to the confinement of a crate.
“You in or out?” asked the dealer.
Jeff slammed his cards on the table. Every eye in the room turned. The last of the billions he had inherited disappear into the dealer’s box. This riverboat gig had been his last hope. All his dreams were blown to hell. Now he had no family, no home, and no way to buy his next meal.
Real gamblers don’t like it when you owe them money, especially these. A sharp wind practically tore Jeff’s shirt off as he landed on the river bank miles from the next town. The landscape lay eerily silent under a blanket of snow as the boat floated away. His only chance now was to walk and pray he find shelter before freezing to death.
It was a glowing light that caught Jeff’s eye an hour later, drawing him into the woods with the promise of a warm campfire. Hours passed before he realized his footprints had vanished. Tired, numb, scared, and ready to give up, Jeff stopped. Instantly, a blinding white light surrounded him. Warmth permeated his body.
“It’s about time you got here,” said a woman. “I’ve been waiting all night.”
Jeff only stared, too stunned to think.
“You’ve had everything thing you wanted, Jeff, now it’s time to have what you need, a purpose. It’s time to give back some of the luck you’ve enjoyed all these years. I’m here to teach you to be a Dream Guardian.”
***
Sunlight flickered across Jeff’s eyes and he jumped up, blinking at the brightness. Nearly a foot of snow surrounded the ten foot patch of clear dry grass where he had slept. Had it all been a dream? The gold band with the small emerald on his finger seemed to disprove that. He fingered the ring, remembering the woman’s words from last night.
“The ring cannot be sold or traded,” she had said. “It’s ethereal. Only another adept can see it.”
That was one way to keep him from blowing it again. But could he really be a Dream Guardian. Jeff still didn’t understand what that meant, or how he wasn’t frozen solid. The air certainly felt frigid enough. In the distance he heard the roaring of an engine and took off at a run. He was still lost in the wilderness.
Or so he thought. Only a couple dozen yards away he stumbled into a road. For the second time in less than a day Jeff was too stunned to speak. Not just at the nearness of the road, but at the woman behind the wheel of the SUV sitting on the shoulder.
“Want some coffee and a ride, or are you going to keep me waiting again?”
