Territory

The tendrils of the day’s heat wound their way upwards from the concrete of the porch and the rock of the walls. The air, tolerably cool in the wee hours of the morning, gave way to these malingering waves of heat that caught me by surprise with each wash of warmth. Gryphon lazily rolled over looking for a belly rub; one he was confident of obtaining and my hand found it way to the spots I‘d learned are his favorite “rub spots“, now an engrammic response to his indolent pleas. My mood was pensive, distracted and bellicose; the unrelenting heat and the remains of a pain reliever hangover from the previous week exaggerated my state of mind. Sleep had once again taken leave and though Gryphon was more than happy to have company, I knew that the start of the day would be a struggle - too late for a sleeping pill.

I slipped on my sandals and roused my lazy companion, convincing him (barely) to take a walk. He went on high alert in the dim light of the waning moon; stopping, sniffing, watching the myriad of night creatures, whose movements were beyond my dull human senses. Gryphon let out a snort and kept moving, a seeming “all clear” regarding his threat assessment. I was thinking that it would only be Redford (the feral hog) or something similar that would startle me in these now familiar acres. When we got to the road I saw a fox dart across, but the light was too dim for recognition. I missed Simon. We hadn’t seen him for several weeks. I thought about my attachment to these creatures that we share this space with and how utterly dull this would all be without their presence. I laughed a little thinking that they wouldn’t miss us much at all.

We approached our northern neighbor’s drive and another fox appeared at the roadside. I told Gryphon to sit and he reluctantly did and let out a small whine - I suspected recognition since the fox pass by his kennel fence during the day on their way to the water troughs - I wondered about the canines’ interaction during the day. The fox stood for a few moments before it turned toward our house, the moon reflecting on the fox’s coat and I could see that it was, in fact, Simon. Where had he been? I wondered. I did feel a sense of relief knowing he was ok. Simon had been the first to eat from my hand, but the aggressive deer and the witchy behavior of Samantha, the southern vixen, have kept him from approaching the deck anymore. He remains my favorite for inexplicable reasons and often he would nap just a few feet from me while I was sitting on the back deck. I suppose all things change. I looked up the rough drive of my neighbor’s and wondered if he was ever going to finish his house, thought of the change it would bring and hoped he would not, that he would continue to let the project sit idle.

We walked on and by the time we reached the next drive we had walked a quarter of a mile. A deer, one of the spikes, exploded across the drive and disappeared into the cedars. I was startled, Gryphon was startled and we stopped. I sat on the low, dry stacked rock wall at the neighbor’s entrance and Gryphon sniffed and anointed several spots along the wall - he’s done this many times on our morning walks. I suspect he thinks of it as “his” wall. I began to think of territory and how we humans mark ours. Our way is a complicated marking compared to the animal methods and I thought it would be nice if we could just pee on a spot and claim it. We, however, have to scrape, build, paint, landscape and put up a mail box to do the same thing. A little pee would certainly be simpler, but we seem to need concrete, gutters, perfume, Binks and bougainvillea to establish a place as ours. We are so complicated and yet so simple minded. I looked at my neighbor’s mailbox and suddenly felt like a trespasser. Gryphon marked another spot and we ambled back to the house.

When we arrived I flipped on the back deck lamp and there was Simon, waiting in his usual spot. I opened the door and tossed him a piece of bread. He studied it for a minute and then looked at me. I suppose he was just comfortable in “his” spot. I turned off the light and went to draw a bath, thinking that maybe Simon had been there all along - just not when I was awake. Sleep wasn’t going to come this night, but I relaxed in the knowledge that my friend was back and my mood began to lighten, as would the sky in another hour - another dawn, another day.