Outside the fence

Spring was here and I was flying around the neighborhood admiring the leaf buds before they became whole leaves in another week. I was enjoying my time weaving between the tree branches when I saw a black dog sitting nervously on the corner outside a chain-link fence. His tail wagged constantly and his head turned side-to-side when he sat. But he didn’t sit for long. After a few seconds of looking around he jumped back up and began pacing along the fence that had been pushed outward at the bottom. I could tell by his expression that he had pushed the fence out. He had pushed and pushed and pushed until it finally gave way and he slid under it to freedom. What an effort it must have taken. I wondered what he had found in the time that he was uncaged. Had he ventured far or was there enough close to here to fill his curiosity? Did he chase a cat or rodent or was he chased by a fox or a coyote? Most importantly, did he find what he was looking for and was he happy. Because, you see, what he didn’t know when the fence finally bent to his will and he slid under it, was that the door he had created only swung one way. He couldn’t go back, not by himself. He would have to be allowed back in. His actions would have to be accepted and he would have to be forgiven for what he had done. The forgivers might place conditions on their forgiveness saying “we will let it go this time” or “we will give you one more chance.” They might tie him up with a rope or a chain because they know that if a dog gets out once, he will do it again. After all, you can never unlearn what you’ve learned. I still wonder what happened to that dog. He looked sweet and dumb and I’m sure his family was patient with him. Of course that may not have been his first time outside the fence.

signed Flaylen