Keep Off the Grass

On an already hot and humid morning, the dogs were wandering idly in the back yard. Birds were overhead and a squirrel or three darted through the tree limbs. It was peaceful and quiet and I was watching the clouds drift by and thinking about the day ahead when the black dog went into attack mode, teeth suddenly bared and barking in a panicked, high pitched frenzy. I looked up to see the terrier from next door cowering in the shrubs and tree limbs piled up behind the garage - for a moment this made no sense - then the black dog charged and I came to my senses in a sudden mad dash for the fence, fearing for the life of this unexpected and terrified intruder.

The next few moments were chaos mixed with crisis. I could hear the terrier's frantic owner calling his name from the other side of the fence but the terror stricken animal was frozen. The black dog was repeatedly lunging at him and howling with fury, other neighborhood dogs joined in the chorus, I was shouting and the small brown dog suddenly arrived and trotted between the two dogs, prancing and barking at them both. Snatching her up with one hand I reached for the black dog's collar and forced her backwards, speaking as softly and as reassuringly as I could while trying to make myself heard above the roar. It was a clear Excedrin moment. Eventually I got both my dogs inside and returned for the trespassing terrier, gathered him up, and tucking him beneath one arm, delivered him safely home. Although my ears were ringing, no blood had been shed during this remarkable invasion of territory and no harm had been done - what might have become interplanetary war had been cut off at the pass and stayed at the level of a minor border skirmish.

Odd how territory means so much to us. For centuries we have fought and died for it, repelled those who would take it from us, guarded and defended with it with actual lives. Be it a hill or a country or a workspace, we do not welcome others into it and feel violated by intruders. This, we say, is mine. You have no right to it. This, we think, is all I control and you will not come in.

Perhaps because we do control so little, we protect what we have and are willing to do battle against those who would trespass, even if it's only the terrier from next door, even if it's only an accidental intrusion. It may be only grass, but it's our's, so keep off.