Atlas Stresses Moi and Mway

June 16, 2010.  Wednesday.

Situation:  This morning Moi wakes me up, distress in her voice as she tells me about her trouble handling the two dogs.  “What would you like me to do?” I ask.  She complains that Mway will not eat with Atlas around and explains that she has to go into town to pick up some paint and would like me to take Mway for a walk when she gets back.  Right now I’m sitting in the office, waiting for her to return; Mway and Squeak are sitting next to me; they’ve been able to claim the upstairs as their exclusive domain; Atlas will not venture up the stairs.  Moi comes home about 10:30, and I take Mway out, while Atlas stays indoors.

State of the Path.  It’s a cool, overcast day; only a little bit of dew remains on the plants at this hour.  In the distance some heavy machine is roaring and periodically beeping (probably Holtzapple or another farmer fertilizing or spraying his field).  I take the side path along the orchard, and think to myself that it would’ve been a good day to bring along the clippers and the weed whacker; one of these days soon I’m going to have to do that, but as I look at the mullein and the touch-me-nots I almost feel hesitant about cutting down any weeds.

State of the Creek:  As I’m eating a few raspberries, I hear Mway splashing around in one of the pools in the creek.  Down the path a ways, a starling flies out of a bush then disappears beyond the trees.

The Fetch:  Mway and I stand in the middle of the clearing and work together at stamping down the goldenrod.  She fetches the “pro-quality” stick a good number of times.  When we get back to the house, I can see Moi behind the kitchen door window, trying to keep Atlas from jumping up against the door and window.  She is shrieking at both dogs, at me, and at her daughter:  “Atlas, stay down!  Mwayla come in!  I’m going to break my wrists!  If I have to do this for two weeks, I’m going to kill myself!”  As Moi finally manages to open the door without Atlas leaping against it, Mway takes off to hide somewhere.  “I was just trying to eat breakfast!  I’m choking on a piece of bread!  Mwayla where are you!”  Moi screams, as Atlas squirms out the door.  “Here,” I say, taking Atlas’s leash from Moi.  “Give him to me, I’ll take him for a walk.”  Moi hands the leash over to me, and, as Atlas pulls against it, I manage to guide him over toward the summer house.  We go crashing down through the day lilies and speeding across the lane (where I manage to glimpse at the daisy-like flowers, which I conclude are oxeye daisies, because they don’t have the fern-like leaves of mayweed), then we go thrashing down through the goldenrod, Atlas gasping as he pulls against the leash.  “Slow down,” I yell at Atlas, as I trip over the anthill before the ridge around bug land.  Atlas keeps lurching forward, at times unable to see the path clearly where it’s choked with weeds, and I think to myself that I better not take him down by the creek because I’m liable to fall over a branch or vine hidden in the grass.  But as we move along, though Atlas keeps choking against his collar, he gets a better sense of how the path goes, and we head toward the creek, floundering through the red willows and stumbling over the board that crosses the swale from bug land.  Along the creek, I worry that Atlas will venture into the water and pull me over the bank, but I manage to keep him away from the edge, and he becomes satisfied with just pulling me along the path.  We turn at the tree stand, go up through bug land and underneath the maples, and in no time we’re back at the house, where Moi is wandering around the yard wondering where Mway is hiding herself.