A Hair Of The Dog

*** continued from previous post ***

Finally he stepped behind his chair, and placing both hands on the back-plate he leaned slightly forward, and said, "Good evening. I'm Randy Dale, and this is Keesha," he reached down to stroke the dog’s muzzle. It was a bit of a reach as she had her head on her forepaws, "She's a Karelian Bear Dog," he said as he gave her a quick scratch behind the ears which, from her expression, she tolerated. "Isn't that right Keesha?"

At the sound of her name her ears twitched and her eyes locked on Dale, looking for a hint of what he was going to do, ready for anything that was asked of her. With her head slightly cocked her eyes shone. Definitely an intelligent dog. You know how some dogs just seem to shine? Their spirit so bright that they appear to glow under their coats? That was Keesha. She was beautiful. Predominantly black with a white chest, belly, and front legs. Her head was squarish and blunt, with forward tipping ears and a stout snout that looked quite powerful. She didn't seem particularly large, not like a Newfie or even a large German Sheppard, but she wasn't small by any means and you could see the muscle ripple underneath her coat whenever she moved. When standing, her tail curved up over her back in a tight 'C' shape. She was a beauty and she knew it.

"And together," Randy said, rubbing his palms, "we handle the 'problem' bear population in this section of the Park."

Here he paused for a moment, as if his thoughts were outpacing his actions, and he needed to collect them. I saw a slight blush creep across his cheeks, even through the wind burn. Ah. Now I understood. This was a man more comfortable with a dog and a trail than a roomful of bored tourists.

For the first time he glanced around the room. I felt bad for him. This was a sucky situation in which to be if you weren't used to speaking. See, a larger group would afford some anonymity, both for the speaker and the audience. A smaller group would lend itself to a more casual and conversational approach. But poor Dale was dealing with a beast that was just large enough, or small enough depending on how you looked at it, to be uncomfortable. For us as well as him.


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