Meeting Raven

The Naturalist, December 18, 2019

Today we picked up our dog. Admittedly, the whole thing had the feel of some illicit deal. After answering a Craigslist ad and exchanging a few texts with the breeder, we met him in the parking lot of a gas station about 40 minutes from our home. He was late. Delayed long enough that we considered calling the whole thing off, until a man pulled up a couple of parking spaces away from us in a beat up Isuzu truck.

Somehow we knew it was him when he got out of the car. He was wearing work cloths, stained and frayed from some form of manual labor, and he lifted his head to scan the parking lot. After a moment he saw us waiting in our SUV, and then with a smile he began walking toward our vehicle. He had a confident, yet friendly swagger to his movements that I could tell naturally put people at ease, and my wife and I got out of the car to meet him. The three of us greeted and shook hands without exchanging names.

"Come on over and take a look," he said with a wave of his hand toward the covered back of his truck. "I know you said you were interested in the black one, but I brought one of the others, too. Just so you could have your pick."

We walked to the rear of his vehicle and he opened the cover's back window. Reaching in with both hands he withdrew a pair of German shepherd puppies. The first had the standard tan and brown shepherd coloration, and was quite large, while the second was smaller, but had a striking, inky black coat of fur.

"They're both female," the man explained, "like you requested."

He passed the tan and brown pup to my wife. "She'll probably be the bigger, stronger dog," he had that smile back on his face when he spoke, "she looks exactly like her mother, who's a great animal. Good family dog."

My wife took the animal and held it, absently stroking its head as she examined it.

"What about the black one?" I asked.

"She takes after her father," he responded, and the smile slipped a little. "He was kind of a tough one. I think he'd been abused before I got him. He even took a chunk out of my arm once before I got him trained up."

He rolled up his sleeve and displayed a long, ragged scar that ran most of the length of his forearm.

"Wow!" I responded with genuine astonishment, "is he still aggressive?"

"He's a little touchy, but he's got a good heart." The smile was back on.

I nodded, but after a moment motioned toward the black puppy, "May I hold her?"

That pause again, but he handed the smaller dog over. She squirmed a bit as he passed her to me, but settled down once I pulled her in close to my body. I stroked her head and the fur felt surprisingly cool.

"She's really pretty," my wife said, eyeing me with the black dog, "want to switch for a minute?"

"Sure," I smiled at her and both puppies squirmed as we juggled them between us.

The black one settled down quickly in my wife's hands, while it took me a moment to get the other one under control. The larger dog's hair was coarser and had been warmed by the sun. However, as I stroked its fur, my eyes met the gaze of the smaller, black shepherd cradled in my wife's arms. The animal was staring at me with an intensity that belied its species and age. The man was talking again about the merits of the dogs' mother, but I was only half listening as I returned the black puppy's gaze. There was intelligence there, more than I would have expected, and something else I couldn't quite identify. Something unsettling.

"Wait," my wife's voice pulled me back from staring at the dog, "these two are actually from the same litter?"

"Yes," the man responded, "the one your husband is holding will be much larger than the other."

"Oh, that's going to be way too much dog for what we want." She smiled and vigorously scratched the top of the black puppy's head, "besides, I really like this one."

The man paused one final time, then sighed, "That sounds good. Did you bring cash? I can't take a card or check or anything."

I handed the larger puppy back to him and began fishing in my pocket for my wallet. He returned the dog to the truck while going over instructions for feeding and other tips. I nodded and made all of the necessary responses as we paid the agreed upon amount. Then, the jaunty smile returned and he was ushering us back to our car. We entered the vehicle and took a few minutes to situate ourselves and the newly acquired puppy, but when we looked up the man and his truck were already gone.

"Sending a pic to the kids," my wife grinned as she snapped a picture with her phone.

I looked over at the dog and once again our eyes met. She was resting quietly on a towel on my wife's lap, but her head turned toward me. Her black eyes held mine, and once again I was struck by their intelligence. Something passed between us and it sent a shiver up my spine. Then she turned away, gave my wife's arm a brief lick and closed her eyes. I stared for a moment longer, wondering what had just happened, then started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. A moment later my wife's voice broke the silence.

"Oh, I just heard back from the kids. They want to name her Raven."