Call me Yukon. I am sure you have heard of me but in case you have forgotten I am the wired-haired dachshund that lives on the north shore of The Lake. Perhaps you have heard the fierce howls I utter at the noisy metal creature that often snakes its way around the south shore; I am certain I have saved countless lives including yours chasing that sinister creature away with my defiant warnings. I shudder to think what would happen if my barks did not keep that creature at bay for there are plenty of dangers on our shore as it is. You don't believe me? Our shore looks peaceful but I am here to warn you of the contrary. In fact it is a miracle I am still able to sit on my fluffy pillow in front of my warm cozy fire to tell you about it.

My life almost came to an end on a warm spring afternoon in the second year of my life. I know that sounds almost impossible considering my very brave name and the fact that I am a direct descendant of the noble and brave wolf, but it is true. I was out with my Mistress sniffing the expanse of crusty hard black ground that runs in either direction from the long path that leads up to my palace on the mountain. Being who I am I have the advantage of being close to the ground which gives me the ability to sniff the sweet aromas I find. My poor Mistress, being so very tall, is forced to only sniff the air. I feel so sorry for her. Sometimes a hapless bug makes the mistake of crossing my path and I get a chewy snack. On this occasion I was so busy sniffing and exploring the softer ground near the crusty black part that I was separated from my Mistress who was also oblivious to our separation. This is was not good, considering she has certain obligations that require we stay close together. I decided to sit on my hindquarters and wait patiently for her to notice her mistake and return to me; that's when it happened.

I heard it first, which isn't surprising considering subtlety was the least of this creature's considerations. I very low and deep "Woof!" alerted me to a danger which I had yet to fathom. I glanced in the direction of the sound and expected to see one of my fellow wolf-kin masters but instead I saw a huge black beast with long black hair and fierce but empty black eyes. It lumbered into view from the expanse of the crusty ground and looked at me not as the noble creature that I am but like one of those bugs I often snack upon. I would learn later that this poor dumb creature was called a "Newfoundlander" and went by the innocuous name of "Fiji" which in my opinion was completely inappropriate as there were hundreds of more fitting monikers for this violent creature. At first glance I estimated that two of me could easily fit inside this dumb beasts mouth and that it's vacant eyes were a clear indication that it had no idea of proper behavior or etiquette let alone the ability to discern my nobility from the lesser creatures of our world.

I panicked. My Mistress was so very far away and I could feel this ridiculously imbecilic beast formulating a plan in its smallish brain to feast upon my noble flesh. I made a run for it. The path to my palace was not far, or so I thought and I raced away on my quick little legs. I was a blur of black fur streaking toward the safety of my palace. I imagined a cloud of dust billowing behind me; a wake of air streaming away on either side of me. I surged forward using the strength of my wolf-kin ancestors, my heart racing, my feet barely touching surface; if I had wings I'd have achieved take off. The obtuse brute plucked me from the crusty surface, it's big slobbery jaws closing around my waist, soaking my fur with its putrid smell as it hefted me up into the air. My life flashed before my eyes and I released my death yelp as I felt its sharp foul teeth pinching my flesh.

All seemed lost but then my brave Mistress was there, using her commanding, although nonsensical, voice to order the moronic creature to release me. Surprisingly the beast opened its jaws and I plopped wetly to the crusty surface like a soaked sponge. However the incompetently named Fiji , lacking the intelligence to discern my noble blood, barked densely and pranced about my fallen form as if I were a plaything for its amusement. My Mistress bravely moved in and scooped me into her arms while fiercely and insistently demanding respect from the dull creature. Perhaps it was my Mistress's commanding voice or my disappointed stares or maybe it was the rather large stick my Mistress found by the crusty surface and began to wield; regardless the big dumb creature lumbered away in the direction it had come, releasing low angry "woofs" of defeat.

My Mistress carried me back to the safety of my palace. I am not one to enjoy a bath but having my fur purged of the putrid sticky slobber of that menacing and moronic beast was most welcome. I spent the remainder of my day curled up next to my Mistress on one of my couches as she played with her magic mirror as she often does. After that terrible day when we walk along the long expanse of black crusty ground from the path that leads to my palace on the mountain I am always very careful to remain close to my Mistress's side.

Copyright © 2010 Daniel Betts