Lilith balks

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Lilith is a dog of qualities. One of them is not obedience. Truth be told, I don't demand it of her, though I keep her on a leash to avoid mad dashes at chickens, or dashes into traffic after chickens, or lurches toward mongooses. When we walk, one of her "words" is "balk." (Other words are "pirouette," "stare with big dark eyes," "snuggle.") I'll be striding along, when suddenly there's a jolt on the leash. Were I fishing, this would be a good sign. With Lilith, it's evidence that she's smelled something, or wants to pee, or that she simply wants to look me in the eye and announce her volition. A woman was driving by at the cemetery office when Lilith balked today. "Oh he doesn't want to walk!" She had a wide open face and smile, a flower tucked behind her ear, and was going to a funeral. "Oh, she smelled something," I said. She balked several more times before our walk ended.

On the hill, Journey roared toward us on his John Deere vehicle and stopped. Said he was going to his great grandmother's funeral today. When I told him about a woman who'd stopped to comment on Lilith's obstinance, he said, "that's my grandmother! Was she wearing orange?" I had not noticed. "I'm excited," said Journey. "I won't have to be at work."

 

As we left the cemetery I saw a group of people wearing orange gathering outside the main building. "What's it about orange?" I asked Journey. He didn't know but he did say she liked to be flashy.