|
But she said: Yea, Lord; for the whelps also eat of the crumbs that fall
from the table of their masters. -Matthew 15:27 |
A lonely dog walks through the night.
Setting out from the safety and the solace of the pack, the dog is in search of something
different. More individual freedoms? A break from traditional authority? Another pack member hurt her, deeply, long ago? A disagreement over pack law? Perhaps the dog just doesn't think the pack can help her anymore. It matters not - this dog is her own master now.
She heard the howls of merriment in the distance. Other dogs, liberated dogs, chasing their tails in delight, cast long shadows of revelry across the fires lighting the pack's council. How could she not be entranced by them? The pack leaders scoffed in dismay, cleaving instead to their customs.
She had enough of them. Here was her chance.
Her chance. To be what
she wanted to be. To throw off the proverbial shackles of the pack. She was her own master now.
Having set off, and now winding through the woods, through the dark, the light of the pack grew dimmer and dimmer, until it faded into the distance. Memories of the pack's ways flitted through her mind, but she dismissed them - that was her old life, and now she is free.
She started to run. To join the other dogs in their merry-making. But where were they? Where were the bonfires, the feasting, the pleasures she imagined would go hand-in-hand with this new-found liberty?
For all around her, it was dark. The fire had faded behind the trees, the wisps of the embers just visible in the distance above the ever-darkening treeline.
She heard whimpering not far off. Curious, she trotted through the thickets to see a voice she thought she recognized.