KILLER

I hear the yapping before I see its source. Then hear the admonitions before I see their source. “Stop it! That’s not nice!”

            Grizzled old guy in mangy bathrobe, slippers, holding the paper. White beard, white sticking straight out hair like he’s just been struck by lightning. He blocks the sidewalk ahead. Grins at me with his beady eyes.

            I make my usual arc out into the street—can I call it dog distancing at this point? I am so sick of all the dog encounters on my walks. Can’t wait to dive into the El Cerrito Pool this afternoon where no dogs are allowed. (Though sometimes I do witness the dog paddle)

            The yapping continues. A wiry little mutt with the same grey white fur color as his owner’s hair. Jumping frantically back and forth on the sidewalk. Tiny lunges toward me. Then tiny lunges back. All the while, bark bark bark bark!

            “He’s okay!” Grizzled Man assures me. “He won’t bite!” He chuckles, like we’re both in on the same joke. I smile, but think to myself, why do dog owners, their barking dogs snarling with barred little teeth, always assure me that the dog is okay? From the sound and looks of it, I’d say, usually, their appearance belies this assurance. I mean, if the dogs were really okay, would they be snarling at me?

            This one is not on a leash or otherwise controlled except for the owner’s hearty joke around the dog’s benignity.

            However, the dog is small. And its ‘bark is probably (I emphasize probably) worse than its bite. It’s not like the German Shepherds I grew up with. When I walked Waldo around the block, she would go into full on protect mode whenever we encountered another being, whether it was a dog, a human, a cat or a squirrel or all of the above. She’d pull on the leash a bit more, she’d growl and bare her big white canines, I had to soothe her with “It’s okay, Waldo, let’s cross the street.” I think she really would have attacked anyone who was a threat to me. Very protective and loyal those Shepherds.

            And this little mutt may just be doing this same job. Protecting Grizzled Man from little old 103 lb. ladies who pose an imminent threat to them!

            “He’s afraid of you!” Grizzled Man calls out now, chuckling.

            “Yeah, well, I’m very intimidating,” I answer, wishing it were true. I could use a little Intimidation Persona on these neighborhood walks! I could puff up, bare my teeth and start barking! That would scare everyone!

            As I pass them now, heading back onto the sidewalk ahead, Grizzled Man calls out to me, pointing at the still frenzied little mutt barking in circles at his feet. “That’s Killer!”
            He busts up and I have to laugh too. “Killer?” I grin. “That’s a good name.”

            Grizzled Man turns and heads back into the house with Killer still barking and I think to myself of all the Killers happening right now.

            Killer Virus.

            Killer Fires.

            Killer Police.

            Killer President.

It’s a deadly world we inhabit right now, I think, marching up the street, shaking my head. A murder of crows (Did you know that groups of crows are called this? A murder?) fly over me, cawing at each other.

            I caw back. They ignore me. I cross the street at Clinton and hear the barks of yet another Killer Hound. Quickening my pace, I try to discern its source, but then it stops.

            Killer no more? I can only hope so as I continue up the 31^st street, the sound of the crows following me into the day.