snow felt like tiny,
heavy, styrofoam pellets
melting on contact

Something really scared the Chocolate Lab
last evening. Babe was trying to cozy up
in her cozy chair. She sat staring out the

window into the dark. Then she jumped up,
charged off the chair, ran around the great
room and hid behind another chair. We just

had been talking with a friend about coyotes,
foxes, black bears and even Mountain Lions
right here along the southern coast of Lake

Michigan in Michigan. She ran into the up-
stairs bedroom and wouldn’t come out for
about a half hour even with our coaxing. I

took her out in the dark to do her business
before we went to bed, flashlight in my hand.
Then my wife and I cozied up in the cozy bed,

the Chocolate girl on the floor next to us. I
wondered if I would dream of coyotes, foxes,
black bears and Mountain Lions even though

the Department of Natural Resources says,
“No, no Mountain Lions in the Lower
Peninsula.” Black bears are here, lurk-

ing in the dark by the window near
Babe’s big, cozy chair. And the lion
doesn’t sleep tonight. Babe knows.

I watch as they start out for a walk.
Babe, the Chocolate Lab, dancing
and prancing and tugging hard on

the harness, which is attached
to the leash at the chest, which
gives my wife much more control

than she would have if the leash
was attached directly to the collar.
On the walk, my wife tells Babe

to heel, sit, and go slow. They
return about forty-five minutes
later and Babe walks much more

slowly, hardly tugging at all.
An hour later Babe sleeps on a
comforter between us as we sit

watching a New Year’s Day college
football game. My wife asks Babe
if she wants dinner. Babe raises

her head, perks her ears, stands
and looks toward the kitchen. Then
she goes from her food bowl to the

counter where she knows there is a
container of her dog biscuits which
she knows as “cookies.” She waits

for dessert. Heel, sit, go, slow,
no, good girl, dinner, cookie. Babe
still doesn’t understand “Bad girl.”

Maybe she’s just ignoring us.