Mysterious Chow

My first meeting with "Mysterious Chow".

I've walked past the white house on the corner for months now, and until recently, I hadn't noticed the leash wrapped around a tree on the front lawn. At first I thought there might be an abandoned baby's toy on the lawn too, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a brightly-colored doggie chew toy. Huh. I wonder what kind of dog lives here? I hadn't seen one out, ever.

Wow! So pretty! But, so many questions....

And just like that, there it was, one beautifully sunny Spring afternoon when I was walking back from the library: a dog right there on the front lawn. And what a dog! It was a gloriously maned Chow Chow, its' gorgeous long fur lit from behind by the late day sun, streaming regally in the breeze, reminding me afterwards of a Chinese painting about a mythical dragon, or a fanciful lion, the splendid beast of a thousand fables. I was so surprised that I cried out a loud "Oh!" and "Heyyyy!", then proceeded to make kissy sounds and other rude noises at the it, while "Chow" rightly ignored me, only giving away its' peripheral attentions by shifting away from me when I tried to call out to it again, a little further up the hill. A perfect mien and bearing, too! "Chow" was aloof, attentive, aware, cautious, and supervisory. That's the sign of a solid, strong mind in a dog, just what you want as an owner. Hmmm....I wonder if "Chow" is a boy or a girl? What kind of owner does "Chow" have? So many questions....

"I see you. And?" So it went. I'd get a glance, then the brush off.

The next time I saw "Chow", I was determined to make friends so I could get a closer look, maybe find out his or her name by reaching for the cluster of dog tags around its' neck, a gesture that's typically too intimate with a relatively unknown animal. How to proceed? It's a chancy proposition to walk onto a stranger's lawn and just introduce yourself to a dog. Luckily for me, this a daffy, doggy sort of town, (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2013/09/dogs-dog-statues.html), so, with a bit of hesitation, I moved in closer; first, by standing by the opening in the fence to the front yard. When the dog seemed OK with that, I walked around the yard a little, talking to it in a soothing, cooing way. Finally, I sat down on the front steps. "Chow" surprised me again by immediately getting up to sniff at me, tail wagging slowly back and forth. Excellent! Friendly, but hesitant and curious. That's real progress with an animal.

Mysterious Chow with "concerned" face and waggly brows. So cute!

"Chow" impressed me further, after inspecting my clothes, bag, and shoes, by backtracking to my first steps around the yard and a bush, to the steps I now sat on, matching my fresh scent on the trail I had just made, to the bottom of my sneaker. Smart! I liked "Chow" even more; that's a very advanced skill for a dog to show. I encouraged it to do so, as it made one last sniff of my sneaker to complete the loop. Very clever, "Chow". For my bravery, I was rewarded with my next clue: I spied a Tennessee Department of Health dog tag around its' neck, the kind that's required for pet vaccinations. Aha! "Chow" was from far away. That could explain its' recent appearance on the front lawn, and the white pickup truck in the driveway, but, was "Chow" a boy or girl? I couldn't tell. That's the thing with furriness. What's "Chow's" name?! I couldn't make kissy sounds and yell out "Chow!" every time we met. I'd have to go deeper, but I decided that was enough for the day. "Chow" had this adorably concerned expression, wrinkling its' brows and turning to look at the door and windows to the owner's apartment, as if to question whether or not to proceed. Circumspect, also a most excellent personality trait.

And also very shy!

The next time we met, I had a brief encounter with the dog, because "Chow" was tracking a fat, old, black and white Welsh Corgi walking (or waddling?) with his/her owner in the park across the street, busily marking its' territory around the yard, as far as the leash would go. That gave me my next clue in the case; "Chow" was probably a boy, but I still didn't know for sure. He (or she?) then did something really interesting. He stood right in front of me, with me standing on the sidewalk below, he above my head on the lawn and, as he barked out loudly to the dog, he peed right in front of me. Wow, "Chow"! He was saying in a very clear way, "Don't mess with her! She's my friend!", then he went into a full-on showy display mode, prancing around proudly in circles, barking and kicking up huge clods of dirt and grass, to spread his Royal Chow scent around. Thanks, "Chow"! What a pal.

Branching out to attend to guard dog duties.

The very next time I walked past the white house, "Chow" was lying down, a bit outside of my view on the sidewalk, beside the stone steps, with a German Shepherd puppy standing over him, barking playfully in his face. Okay, now there's two dogs; an aloof and proud Chow, and the other a possible future attack dog. That's a bit much, even for a hardcore "dog person" like me, which was probably the exact message the transplanted owner intended, what with years and years of New York City based crime dramas implanted into every newcomer's head. And when a young women came out by herself, I knew that was it. She didn't look like she was from these here parts, poor thing. Must be frightening to be an out-of-towner in New York, even in a place as relatively safe and beautiful as Rockland County's bucolic Hudson Valley region. This ain't the South, fo' sho'. She pulled the Shepherd puppy indoors by its' collar, as I stood by the opening in the fence on the side of the yard, deciding what to do. I loved "Chow", who was playing an adorable game of hide-and-seek with me behind the stone steps, but I didn't feel comfortable taking liberties with another persons' pet, especially with someone who had clearly not given me an invitation to do so.

"Are you catching this?!"

So, I did what any "nosy" New Yorker would do: when "Chow's" owner came out again to interact with him, I peppered her with a series of rapid-fire, but friendly, questions. Who knew when I would get the chance again? Their appearances were so sporadic and uneven, it could be months before an opportunity presented itself to me again. She was a bit tense, preferring to bite off short one word replies before finally graduating to a complete sentence, under the easy persistence of my obviously good-natured ways, thus bringing an end to my little mystery: "His name is Grizzly." Yeah! Perfect! Well, of course it is! And that's exactly what he is: a shy, sweet, fluffy, big, beautiful Grizzly Bear Dog. Happy hunting, dog lovers! Be safe.

Still, he will always be "Mysterious Chow" to me.