The Feast of St. Francis
4 October
Our friend, Janet, made a great suggestion for our day's outing so the "girls" and I have just returned from a trip to the animal shelter where, today, the animals were celebrated and blessed on the occasion of the Feast of St. Francis. I'd brought Pfeffernuss out of the car, the better to control her, but she was in Pfeffernuss form, barking out calls and commands when Father Jeff arrived.
Father Jeff responded to her need and came to meet Pfeffernuss. When he remarked on her high-pitched bark, I explained that Pfeffernuss is a Cur, a hunter, and has what is called the "tree bark" of the Cur. "Oh," he said, "so when she trees a squirrel, she gives that bark and wherever they are, the hunters can hear that." I agreed that she could be heard. Imagine running a pack of these as they do in the south. Thankfully, she does run silent until she finds she can't reach her quarry.
"So, will she tree a squirrel?" he asked, looking into the tree behind him. "She will tree a squirrel?" I laughed and told him that within the hour, I had seen her try to chase a squirrel up our massive maple. The squirrel ran a spiral and Pfeffernuss [I know not how] actually followed the spiral until gravity found her. Then, she barked to alert me. And, as Pfeffernuss continued to alert the company assembled and the Father cast glances at the tree, I began to explain that the present excitement was due to the herding instinct of the Cur, a hunter/herder. "I was extremely disturbed by her separation anxiety until I realized that she is distressed when people separate because she wants everyone to keep to the proper flock or pack behavior," I told him.
Only when the Father spoke and prayed did Pfeffernuss settle down, bless her little heart.
After all the blessings, Father Jeff stopped by to remark on how beautiful Mika is. He was surprized and saddened that our little Chow-faced red dog, a foster placement, had not found a home. He was so glad, though, that she had remained with me. Then he came to admire the Molly Collie. He wasn't sure about Molly's breed but he remembered having a dog like Molly when he was a boy. His dog was so great with the cows, he said, and I could see him reminiscing. He really understood my wish that Molly had a couple of pygmy goats. He was convinced that would provide Molly much exercise and happiness.
I had parked next to the grass so I put Molly into the car and sat in the passenger seat to write a check for the shelter, leaving Mika and Pfeffernuss "on watch" at the open door. When I offered the check to a member of the board, Father took the opportunity to learn more about Pfeffernuss. He seemed very taken with her and was eager to get her "breed name" well in mind. I spelled "Cur" for him and the board member and told them that most of what I've learned about Curs, I learned on the Internet.
Though the Cur is not considered a "breed" of dog, it is a definite variety in the south, recognized by many people from the south and by many hunters. I'm often approached by men who do a double take, point and ask, "Lady! do you know what you've got there?" In response to this question, board member, Father and I said in unison; "A dog?" at which we laughed and Pfeffernuss got another pat.
Janet had suggested that having the blessing at the Shelter might encourage people to adopt animals so I should say that I guess Pfeffernuss is a real blessing. The first dog I saw was a lovely English Mastiff which I'd so like to have. Pfeffernuss, of course, wanted to adopt on the spot but her insistence immunized me so entirely that, when the Italian Mastiff appeared I attended, patted and moved along, dragging Pfeffernus behind me. The dog I longed to spend more time with was a Shar Pei who looked so like Ursa -- black and beautiful and proud. Fortunately for me (unfortunate for him, I suppose), I can't keep another dog and don't want a male, even if he is to soon be a "shim," his future designation according to the worker who brought him out for blessing and showing.
One day, I may find myself with one dog, the Pfeffernuss, and be required to adopt a friend for her. On that day, I will take the Pfeff to the pound and let her choose a new friend. "Just ONE!," I'll be yelling, "Just ONE!"
