Hobart Mornings

August 20, 2014

                  Hobart needs to go out every morning and do his business, you know what I mean.  And I'm glad.  On workday mornings I wake him up to go around 5:30 but on the other days he wakes me up with a cold nose to my face.  I like to walk around the village really early.  It used to be light out at that time but now it's dark and cold.  When we step out of the front door Hobart pauses on the porch for a moment like he's taking in all the smells that have accumulated overnight. I like to study the sky for a minute to see what constellations I can see as I pull my coat collar up a little higher to keep out the cold and damp.  He then races down the steps tugging me after him.  We cross a little grassy patch, then step over an old sewer pipe on the wooden path up to the main boardwalk. 

                  On the boardwalk we turn left towards the AC store and the new airfield, toward what I like to call "downtown".  Hobart's first stop is a tuft of grass just off the walkway where he leaves a liquid message for the dog who lives in the house there.  On cold mornings the black furry dog won't come out, preferring to stay curled upon himself in his house.  On the warmer days past he barked at us and tugged on his chain. 

                  Our next stop is on the right side about 60 feet down from furry black dog by a small shack that serves as the village washeteria.  It's dark inside at this time of morning.  In fact all the municipal buildings are dark including the Village Tribal office we pass next on our right.  I used to be able to see the first light of morning straight ahead of me as we walked this way, now it will stay cold and dark until well after the school day starts. 

                  At the third house on the left we have to make a choice, either continue on another 200 yards to where the boardwalk makes a hard left, or turn back now and head towards the school.  It will depend on the two dogs who live at this house and whether or not they come out barking their heads off.  This morning they stay curled up, tucked into their own fur and leave us alone, so Hobart and I keep going.  Passing the side ramp that leads to the post office Hobart keeps his nose up as if he's sucking every scent out of the cold morning air. 

                  We get to a place where a street lamp shines a yellow circle on a 90 degree left turn of the boardwalk.  Hobart comes to a stop and waits for me to say, "Let's go back." like I always do.  Hobart pauses for a few more moments as if it's really his decision and he will let me turn us around.  I like it when he thinks he's in charge, especially on our morning walks where it's just me and him and the rest of the world is still asleep.  I remind myself this walk is really his and he's taking me along for company.  I'm glad to be in his company.  He will have to spend the rest of the day in the house waiting for me to come home from work.  He's a wild animal at heart and he needs this time.  It's the least I can do to let him have his way, to take all the new scents, to give him time to be outside where he is at home.  If I could just let him run.

                  A couple quick leaps and he is tugging me back in the direction we came from.  Past the post office, the laundry and the black dog house.  A left turn now on a branch of the main boardwalk brings us past the utility building where 4 diesel generators keep the town powered up.  Hobart has to take a quick look around the electrical equipment they store outside before he pulls me over towards the enormous raised tank that hold the village water supply.  Once, a few days back, Hobart discovered a puppy under the tank so he has to check that out every day now.  He's good at remembering where he saw stuff. 

                  He scrambles out from under the tank and we dodge a few inky, black, puddles on our way to the jungle gym next to the school.  A quick sniff and we're off again along the northeast wall of the school where some high school kids broke one of the two floodlights with a rock a few weeks ago.  We're on gravel now by a lot where the outside basketball court used to be before the flood washed it away.  It was a thick wooden platform with a basket on each end.  The floodwaters and ice flow picked it up and laid it to rest atop the sewer line in back of the school.

                  Around the corner we step back onto a wooden walkway that is raised 3 feet above the water and mud.  Hobart has fallen off of this one before when he was distracted by ravens perched on top of the school and not watching his step.  This is one of the darkest parts of our walk and I get a good look at the southern and western sky.  Orion is bright in the cool, clear air this morning.  Not that I don't like Orion, he has kept me company on some of the longest nights of my life, but I will be waiting to see the bright star Vega in the constellation Lyra.  Lyra signals that spring is here and this school year is nearly done. 

                  Along the southwest wall of the school and I have to slow Hobart down because I have to cautiously climb down from the boards I'm on to the next section of walkway which lost its supports in the flood last year and dropped to ground level.  Hobart leads me to the small, red, painted Assembly of God church building where he carefully sniffs the stilts and leaves replies to other dog's messages. 

                  A few more zigs and zags along rickety slanted boadwalks and we're back at our front step.  With the river on our right Hobart wants to stay out longer.  I wouldn't mind going for another circuit and sometimes on the weekend we do but this morning I have to get ready for the chaos of another day at school.