I adopted my yearling pup "Zorro" just a few months ago, so I'm still learning how she reacts to the changing seasons and other things. In the sultry days of summer, she would sometimes flop down on the ground and refuse to move further, leaving me with no choice but to carry her home in my arms. She needs lots of exercise, though, and without our hours-long walks she'll chase her tail in the back yard, nip at my shins and spin in circles with a comical growl. Based on Google image searches, knowledge of various breeds' behaviors and the foster mom's guess, I've decided she's a cross between a Jack Russell terrier and an American Eskimo. She has the markings of a Jack Russell, but her snow-white fur is much fluffier than a pure terrier's, particularly on her big butterfly ears. With her long body and tail, she reminds many of an arctic fox kit. Perhaps you've seen her around town.
I'm worried what will happen over the winter when it's too cold to walk for long, but these brisker days bring out Zorro's friskier side, and I'm happy to walk her at length, imbibing the healthy air and dusky tones of autumn. Newton Lake Park is especially lovely with its thick maple trees and assorted fauna. I'm not sure of the ethics of summer's anti-algae treatment, but there's no doubt that things have improved aesthetically. Wood ducks and cormorants now add variety to the ubiquitous Canada Geese. (Why is it only THEIR green, coiled droppings I see? Surely other waterfowl leave excretions, too. And why are the plainest, ugliest birds also the most aggressive and numerous? It's not like humans, where the plain and mousy ones are typically timid...) Actually, I only saw one wood duck, but I'm guessing there are others hidden away somewhere. The occasional egret and heron decorates the landscape while patiently awaiting its mackerel.
We saw the lone wood duck once last week and again yesterday, but tonight perhaps it was too cold. Tonight, bright yellow maple leaves contrasted strikingly against the periwinkle sky, dark grey by four-o-clock. A beaver came out to swim as the sun set. And it was a beaver; much larger than a muskrat, its large, flat tail flipping vertically as it caught my dog's scent and dove underwater with a great splash.
Zorro jumped a bit at that. By now we were five miles into our little trek, but still she trotted along. We exited the park and headed down Lakeview, then Haddon toward the spookier part of Collingswood... and maybe it's not all Collingswood at all, for a little patch under route 130 on the way back home feels just like Camden, with its shadowy bad-vibe figures, graffiti and fast food litter. It was already dark now, and I picked up my still-energetic vulpine pup and carried her like a baby in my arms. The walkway under route 130 is curved, and the sidewalk flanked by a railing, so you never know who you might run into and, if you're not lucky, it's difficult to run away. When traversing this little walkway after dark, I carry my pup so as not to startle or perhaps anger others walking in the opposite direction. I look around and crane my neck, trying to see if anyone's coming from the other side, or hiding in the bunch of trees behind the Dunkin' Donuts. It's just a little patch of Camden, always the two spookiest minutes of my walk.
