Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Lilith at the Met


It was the sound of a distressed soprano, high and loud, with a note of terror attached. It was Lilith last evening, after she was rushed by a puppy pit bull (for the second time) and got caught up between the other dog person's legs and her own leash. She ran off to the side of the play area, where everyone and their dogs had gathered, tail thrust forlornly between her back legs. This evening, Lilith wanted to get a treat from her favorite person. She walked back to the area where she'd been terrorized. At first, she wouldn't even take a treat. "Please keep your dog on a leash," I said to the owner of a second pit bull, who plays with the offending hound. Not much response. Lilith ate her treat and we beat our retreat.
Earlier today, a friend and I collected lunch plates at the Poi Factory (I had the #16, mini laulau, and she the kalua pig). We drove to Kualoa Beach park to find a picnic bench. I was slow to pick up Lilith's leash as she got out of the back seat. And she ran! Red leash trailing, she bounded off after chickens. "Not as fast as he [sic] thinks he is," said a large man in a folding chair, looking out to sea with his wife. As Lilith ran toward the parking lot, I called out, "if you can, please catch my dog." (This feels like a mantra, after all these years.) No one did, but the leash got stuck under a car tire for just long enough for me to gather her in. My friend had just finished reading _Lilith Walks_, so I assured her she had now experienced a Lilith story first hand. We walked up the beach, past fishermen, small kids, and back toward the car. A line of tourists was doing a Greek folk dance in the park when we reached the car.

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