Dog Dreams and Vagabonds
One fantastic dream and four talented writers
We were farmers. Lived in two or three houses side by side among the outbuildings and fronted by an unruly hedge. Dogs were off-leash. Mike had a house, Dawn and I had one, and the neighbors had one. Echo was barking at something, so I told her to stop. Looked out the front window, she was in full gorgeous stretch, charging something at the neighbor’s house. She’d been rooting in the unruly hedge and seen a shadowy figure. I couldn't see who. Yelled and came outside, cursing and furious. Dragged her over to the small porch. There were mutters from the neighbors about the sheriff. Tied her short to her lead and punched her while she lay on the ground. Kept hitting her but couldn't hurt her, made me madder. Tied her shorter and shorter. Came inside, looked outside, and was amazed as she transformed into a beautiful dog-woman who lifted the choke chain over her head and stood on her hind legs. She tearfully and angrily told me why she had charged the porch, to protect us all from an intruder. She tried to warn us, but nothing happened; she tried to call out, no effect. Finally, she put her body on the line. Her head was triangular, with a sharp chin and pleading eyes. She knew English, had sort of a reddish-gray skin, and wore no clothes but wasn't naked. She was tall and athletic, with big freckles. She sobbed, trying to make me understand. Her hand-paws were on my chest. All woman and all dog, and a very powerful spirit. Amazing.
In a world ruled by mayhem and machines, dogs live with us and bring the other-than-human world to our hearths and couches. Like sunrise, birdsong, and waterfall, they are bridges to the wild; they are living invitations to Eden.
In turbulent times, it is important to regulate your intake of crazy. I don’t know if you can game the Substack algorithm, but it’s worth a shot. I’ve found these four writers to be Enchanted Vagabonds of the highest order.
Check out Scott Stillman for his fresh views on what counts as a successful existence.
For pure vagabondery, there is no one quite like Chris Arnade. Follow him as he walks - WALKS - through the exotic parts of the world.
Benjamin Bramble writes the Fox Holler Almanac from the Missouri outback. Enjoy his storytelling as he lives large, rejuvenating a few acres of old, tired pasture.
And our last Vagabond for this session - A.M. Hickman writes one great essay after another from the bypassed, “useless” depths of the Adirondack paradise.
Peace all.
Here is real music performed by real people. Play us out, girls.