dog days

A woman at the beach, surrounded by, and stepping over six little dogs on six little leashes reminded me of May day celebrations and the ribbon weaving children. She prompted a stranger to remark that eleven dog leashes had been found in a local eagle's nest. The eagle didn't have a leash fetish. Rather, the leashes were a sinister sort of "take-out trash" like pizza boxes in the recycle bin, the variety or flavour of the day clearly stamped on metal tags; Fifi, Peaches, Chester, oh my. Dogs had apparently been snatched up or snacked up, from as close as ten feet from the unsuspecting owner. Those of us who comb the beach with our head down would do well to glance up at the rustle of wings.