Charlie

It was one o’clock in the morning when I was awakened by the sound of a howling dog—and again at 3:30.

The next morning, in a different state of consciousness, I wondered if I really had been awakened by a howling dog. I called my neighbor to ask, “Were you awakened in the night by a howling dog?” “Yes,” my neighbor answered in an irritated tone. I called another neighbor who confirmed that she too heard the dog. None of us were sure where the howling originated from; we only knew that it came from below. We live on the rim of a hillside overlooking a cul-de-sac of houses referred to as the bowl. The bowl is known for its amazing acoustics and long before homes were built, the bowl was used as a stadium for the rodeo and other events. When I stand in my backyard, I can hear clearly the conversations of my neighbors and they can hear mine. We’ve had some fun with this over the years. A visiting tenor and member of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang the Star Spangled Banner on the deck overlooking the bowl on the fourth of July. My daughter has played her violin for unseen listeners on spring days when windows were open. Above the bowl, I have been entertained by heated baseball games among brothers and a drum concert from a talented percussionist. Wonderful acoustics aside, it is a pernicious environment for a howling dog in the middle of the night.

The next evening, the howling starts at eight o’clock and continues in fifteen minute intervals. Accompanying my fear of impending sleep deprivation is my fear that there is actually a dog in distress. I decide to get in my convertible and drive around the bowl. Hopefully, I will easily locate the dog and inform the owners. But first, I will look over the bottom deck to try and pinpoint the exact troubled-dog location. My step into the chilly night air coincides perfectly with the dog’s howl. I am startled by how close it sounds, and my eyes are drawn into my own backyard. There he is! A beagle I recognize and he is locked in my own backyard!!!

A few phone calls later and the story emerges. Charlie, the offending beagle has been missing for two days. Its owner has been searching the dog pounds, shelters, and the surrounding hills. The owner’s four children have been praying every night for Charlie’s return. I think of the neighbor’s below, irritated and complaining that I have let my dog howl for two nights; my immediate, yet justified blame of someone else’s negligence. Two days worry about someone else’s problem when it was really my own. I have a good laugh because there is little else to do, but, I do keep the age-old adage in mind for the future, “Clean your own backyard before you clean mine.”