There is something about rescuing a dog despite all the inconvenience that comes with it.

Late last night the dogs were barking so we looked, and there he was, a white dog, with that familiar lost look.

We scrambled out with dog biscuits and a leash.

At first he would not come near, but slowly, slowly he approached the first dog biscuit we threw a couple of metres clear of him, looking up at the same time, not sure if we could be trusted.

After the first one he ate, the second one was easier, so too the third, the fourth and finally I clipped the dog leash on him.

Now what?

It was a beautiful evening out here in Lakeside Village.

It is February so the wind and its breezes subside … the moon was full, high, bright, and sparkling.

So bright and sparkling that the stars were faint, although in the absence of cloud, the Southern Cross and its Pointers will always be there no matter what.

So too the False Cross, up there in the constellation of Vela, ready as a siren to shipwreck any celestial sailor who loses concentration.

The False Cross is prominent and beautiful, just like any siren in mythology.

She will sing her visual seductive song, whilst true South remains the purity of the smaller Southern Cross and her two Pointers.

When a dog surrenders itself and trusts in you, you have to be a Southern Cross, pointing to that which should be in your heart.

There is inconvenience … so what were we to do with the dog, a male that Bandit, our staffie would not be happy with!?

Jess, the old Matriarch rottweiler-cross, would be happy with the newcomer provided it showed respect, the miniature poodle would however awaken the neighbourhood with her complaints, and perhaps only the cat, Shanti, would be totally at ease, using her old sharp claws to ensure discipline!

Once the soft eyes of a trusting dog lock into your soul, for most of us there is no escape.

In the beauty of the night, looking up at the sky, it was the same with this ‘fairest of all capes’!

Once Cape Town captures you it is not easy to escape, even if you are planning to join that suicidal Mars 1 mission!

Strange that a lost dog can have so many thoughts seemingly diverse run through your mind!?

Even without a solution regarding the dog in that moment, in the moon glow, the comfortable freshness of the night, the familiar stars pointing where they should, all felt perfectly fine.

The city lights reflect off the rocks of Lakeside Mountain, actually the northern slopes of Muizenberg Mountain, that massive block that I have written about.

But then almost everything is relative, depending on your point of view …Lakeside, Muizenberg, up, down, left, right … although the beauty of the night and the trust of the dog in us were absolutes.

Beneath the Southern Cross, ‘Muizenberg Man’ is in profile from where we are, even in the night. Nobody seems to have seen him yet, no matter how much I googled, wondering how on earth I missed his unmistakable rock profile after being in his presence two decades and a half!? Surely the San people or the strandlopers must have had some legend about him?

I will have to write about him soon …

Above the mountain, even a few slight wisps of the Lady With The Crazy Silver Hair, just to remind me of my promises, testing my commitment towards seeking redemption.

Ah, I think, let me walk the dog over to the brothers, and see if they will take him in.

Dev, bleary eyed and annoyed, glares at me from behind the curtain as I knock.

What on earth are you doing here in the middle of the night, he demands?

You have rescued another dog! When are you going to stop this, where am I supposed to keep him!?

He is my son, but he is almost as big a hulk as Muizenberg Mountain and I no longer push my luck with him.

After some fierce reprimands from son to father he semi-calms down, ceases with his woken up fury, and allows the dog to stay the night … on his terms, including that the dog is off to the nearest vet in the morning!

In the dark, I smile as I head off around the block, back home, beneath the moon … as I said,  it all felt perfectly fine.

Copyright © 2015 G. Rigotti



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