We Are Nightwalkers by River Song

We have become a family of nightwalkers.  Our daily constitutional has become a nightly ritual.  

Here in the Prune Village where the number one job is being retired people don’t walk at night and seldom come outside after sunset.  The sound of lawn mowers and weed whackers begin at the crack of dawn, but a hush comes over our neighborhood at dusk.   When the restaurants stop serving the early bird special, it is bed time.

The biggest reason for our switch is that Pocket is obnoxious.

If there is a person walking down the street, she barks.  Same is true of dogs, cats, squirrels, leaves and abnormally large bees.  I bark as well, but my barks are communications to Pocket that she needs to stop barking.  Sometimes I prematurely bark to keep Pocket from barking.  But I never bark at just anything.  I am a good girl.

 Since everyone is getting ready for bed after sunset, there are few cars on the road and since the speed limit is ten mph we can out run any wayward motorist.  The only exception is the omnipresent ambulances circling waiting for the inevitable 911 call.

In every yard is a lamp post giving off a soft light.  We are never in the dark, but it is never too bright either (just like Pocket).  It is the perfect illumination for a pleasant trot.

I have learned while walking in the dark that all your other senses become stronger.  We can hear each call from the frog, every cricket squeak, and the cicadas singing.  The smells are so much more aromatic in the dark.  All the pee mail is deep and fascinating.  You can find meaning in the pee that you don’t pick up in the daylight.

The only downside is the flashlight.  When we begin to poop mommy shines it on us.  Normally, when one is in the spotlight, crapping is bad.  I have the instinct to stop the procedure, but once the bomber doors are open, there is no stopping the discharge.

I scurry out of the light immediately after completion.  Honestly such an activity demands some privacy.  I pull on the leash as my dad cleans up the spot.

I like doing my business on the corner where the mean man lives.  He usually yells at dogs who poop on his lawn but at 7:30 he is in bed watching a recording of the previous night’s Hannity.

If you get a chance to become a nightwalker please do.  It is a grand experience.

Just don’t poop in the spotlight.