Walking the Hedge

This started as a response to an emailed question from a friend, but I think it will make a good blog post.

Crash is a 9 year old blue heeler and she is my familiar, in the fact that she is often involved in my rituals and such (and much more). Though her main job is to protect me. I can head on out to the woods, wrap myself up in a blanket and go ‘oot and aboot and she will lay down beside me, with all the protectiveness and patience of a herding breed. Anyone tries to come near me in that state and she is all hackles raised, teeth bared, barking her head off “back off buddy!” and “wake up mommy!”

After some 9 years of it, we are well practiced, and once Crash is comfortable with someone I can invite them to join us in ritual. Its something to see, she howls or barks along when such things like “So mote it be!” are shouted, she pads along beside me as I Plow the Furrow or Raise the Hedge (sorta like Circle casting but not so Wicca-Ceremonial-ish) she watches offerings be placed and knows not to eat them, she waits eagerly for her piece and drink during the Housle (ritual meal), she stares intently at my Stang as we plant the World Tree and part the Veil etc etc

When I attend group rituals I don’t bring her along because she takes a while to warm up to people and then gives off nervous energy, but I do feel naked without her.

When we beat the bounds, I trust her to find the best and easiest path through the bush (trails, who follows trails? Boring!) and is always alert for animals, people and such. She has lead me to water more than once, and pointed the right way home as well.

This dog trusts me completely, and there is no dog more loyal, in my humble and biased opinion. She would literally run herself to death beside me if I let her. If I didn’t feed her, she would starve by my side rather than go off in search of food.

She has licked my wounds clean, when we were in the bush and there was nothing else to clean them with. She has supported my weight as I stumble down a wooded slope with a sprained ankle or broken foot.

When we visit someone’s house and they expect me to put her outside, she find the sliding glass door or window where she can spot me and sits there and waits, she does not go off and do doggy things. If she cannot see me, then she will sit and stare at the door I went into, for hours. If I tie her up outside a store she will kill herself trying to get free of the leash and get to me.

People see the way she looks at me and follows me and say “remind me to never make a sudden move in your direction”

Once (some 6-ish years ago), when my relationship with Jay was reaching its end, he had a severe diabetic episode and he went crazy. I walked through the door, coming home from work, and Jay screaming at the top of his lungs, he rushed me.

As I tried to open the door and back out, all while hollering at Jay, Crash leapt out of nowhere (the other two dogs were cowering behind the couch) and put herself between me and Jay, she snarled and barked at him. He didn’t stop but kicked her in the ribs, sending her flying to my feet. She hit hard and I screamed “Oh gods!” but Jay was still coming at us, angrier than ever, hollering that he was going to “kill that fucking dog”.

I grabbed my 50 pound dog by her scruff and backed out the door with her, dragging her as she whined in pain. I got the door shut just as Jay hit it, and like those knights in movies holding a door being battered, I fell back from the force of him hitting it. Even though the door opened inwards and did not open into me, the vibration, the impact was enough to knock me over.

I scrabbled to my feet “Crash, get up Crash, we gotta go” she almost screamed as she heaved herself to her feet, me pulling her up as well.

Counting on the fact that a diabetic in that state will struggle with things like doorknobs, I ran back to the truck, pulling Crash to her feet, she limped along beside me as fast as she could, crying in pain.
Crash couldn’t jump in with broken ribs, so I heaved her up as fast as I could, sobbing and apologizing because I didn’t have the time to worry about hurting her in the process.

My hands were steady as I put the keys in the ignition and backed out the drive, thanks to a hard life and tough childhood, I can think and act FAST in these situations.

Jay got out the door and fell down the deck stairs trying to reach us as I turned the truck around and sped off.

En route to the veterinary hospital, I called the local fire department and had them come out to take care of Jay. Then I called his Mom and told her to go get her son and keep him at her house for a few days.
That was the beginning of the end of our relationship.

As we drove down the bumpy country road to town, I looked over at my girl, her head in my lap, her eyes full of pain and I said “Thank you”

That’s a familiar, not this stupid bullshit where dumb little witches think their cat is their familiar because it jumped on the altar once.

Related posts:

1. The Dog Makes a Post
2. To Tread Lightly
3. Camping