...when something's about to get you.
After a couple days of shirtsleeve weather, the temperature is dropping fast today. The patter of rain on the window woke me up this morning, and gusty winds nearly tore the door out of my hand when I opened it to let Levi outside. I hoped he could take care of business and get back in the house before the rain got heavier.
Instead, as he began his usual beeline into the farther reaches of the yard, something caught his eye and brought him to a halt right at the edge of the patio. He whirled around and looked at me, his eyes big with worry or fear, head ducked, shoulders hunched. I urged him to go on: "Hurry, Levi! Hurry!" He didn't budge, just paced right there in the same spot.
In the time it took me to zip up my robe so I could step outside, Levi moved. He was now huddled right outside the door, his big, curly body scrunched up in a posture that seemed designed to make himself look as small as possible. I didn't know what was out there, but it had to be something scary.
A few short steps across the patio took me to the end of the privacy fence, and from that vantage point I could see the chain-link fence that abuts it. There, pinned by the wind to the other side of the gate, its body mashed flat and its "wings" spread to their full span, was a white-plastic Walmart bag.
My 85-pound baby watched from behind me as I grabbed the bag with two fingers, pulled it through the fence, and wadded it up into a small ball. Then he ventured close enough to sniff it, threw his head back and visibly relaxed, and ran on out into the yard.
It felt good to be able to set Levi's world back on its axis so easily. Made me want to put on a cape and see who else's problems I could solve with my magical powers today.