The Watering Hole

Several years ago I was privileged to hear a talk in church by Clyde Black, an accomplished hunter and speaker. He has been to Africa on Safari many times and was able to relate the habits of many species of animals who gather around the waterhole as a means of survival. His intent was as a warning to be aware of the dangers, especially in public places; to be alert for the snares of the world. His use of the watering hole was most effective.

He explained that from a distance the watering hole appeared to be safe as there was little if any movement, either on the edges or on the water’s surface. Upon closer inspection; however, his trained eye was able to detect the presence of alligators, maybe he had said crocodiles. In either case what had appeared to be a safe place to enter and partake of the life giving substance of water turned out to be a well laid trap to catch an unsuspecting visitor. He went on to detail how the camouflaged predator would lay motionless in the water, only the bump of his snout and the bulge of his cloaked eyes floating in view, similar to a piece of drifting flotsam until, in a blink, he would lunge out and overtake any creature foolish enough to have gotten too close. The struggle would last for only a few moments as the prey disappeared below the murky surface to be digested later.

We have a water bowl in our kitchen for the general use of our two kitties, Bubba and Andie along with Puppy. It serves as a point of contention, not as dangerous perhaps as the watering hole I described earlier; however, almost as much fun to watch. Bubba has never learned to appreciate her fellow house mates. She will put up with Andie, especially since Andie is the Senior Kitty; Puppy, on the other hand is a dog. Bubba has no use for dogs in any shape or form. Dogs are Eeeeevvvvviiiilllll and there is nothing good about any of them.

Yesterday one of our young neighbors came by and dropped off his dog, Roxie. It seems that Roxie is being abandoned in a manner of speaking, because of a needed move. We are supposed to put Roxie on a plane and send her off to her new home someplace in Wyoming, once the details are worked out. This is a familiar story around our house; almost identical to the one in which we gained our own Puppy, several years ago when she was abandoned into our temporary care. I would be the first to admit that Roxie appears to be a sweet animal and only needs to have a loving family to take care of her; just not me, please not me again.

The walk from the front yard to our fenced in area was yet another negative “dog” experience for Bubba as she lay enjoying a peaceful snooze under my work truck at the far end of the driveway. There was an instant blur of white dog, some bumps and banging under my truck followed by some white blur, some more bumping and banging as Bubba bounced off the wheel well in her escape. That was the informal introduction. Bubba didn't come home until around 3:30am and let us know that we had once again violated our sacred oaths, promises of loyalty and stewardship to her alone. She was pissed off.

I watched her this morning as she approached the water bowl. Instantly I could see her ears attempting to pick up any stirrings, any hint of being observed by those terrible beasts, those beasts who would destroy her as surely as the alligators consume unsuspecting Zebras. She stood motionless for a minute or two and then would take a couple of short laps of water before going back to the alert status.

The “visiting dog”, Roxie, must have walked by the side door, a fully windowed view to our back yard. At once Bubba hunkered down into a low crouch and shot out of the kitchen to the safe confines of the living room/office. Wouldn’t you know, there at the entry way, the far end of the living room, Puppy lay sleeping on the cool tiled entry platform. “Damn Dogs!”, I could hear the exclamation escape into the air as she hurriedly found her way into the safe harbor of the front window sill. My guess is that she will remain there for several hours pouting and possibly plotting the demise of at least one dog, maybe two along with contacting her attorney.

Other than providing an interesting story about the crazy life we get to observe here in our own jungle; it is my hope that we all remain alert for the snares of the world, whatever form they come in. May we avoid the trappings of greed and pride as we go about our dealings with the rest of the world is my hope and my warning. If I were at church I would tack on the line, In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, Amen.