the dog in the lion's den.

A bitch and her two pups made and lost their way into the desert not far from their home. A sudden sandstorm had erupted from nowhere and blown them off course till the mother did not know where to find, again, the secret path they had taken to leave home. It soon became terrifying. The boy-dog was the first to state their predicament. It was his personal custom to state the obvious. He said:
-we are lost.
His tail was wagging as he said this. The fear had not yet touched the tail/tale of the adventure in his head. The girl-dog was wiser. She had heard the stories of the lions in the desert. She stayed close to her mother not simply out of fear, because she was quite resolved, but to breathe in the familiar smell of home.
The sandstorm passed duly but now everything was sand. The mother-dog could no longer make her way toward freedom or toward the boundary of home.
She sighed, guessed the old distance and began to walk slowly toward a barely understood concept she had heard called “east”. Her children followed her in unquestioning trust.


(For the sake of keeping the story short and sweet we may travel through their time faster than they have, not suffering the sweat, sun, agony of what they endured for hours….we meet up with them as they encounter the peculiar situation that is at the centre of this whole narration…….)
It was not long, in our time, but hideously long for them, before they ran into trouble. The mother-dog could see that a pride of lions had begun to encircle them. She found a tactful way to pull her children close to her, to shield them from the knowledge of danger. We are told that it is not in the nature of such creatures to think this way, to ward off mental as well as physical danger. We are told that it is not the way of the dog to do this yet it is the way of this dog. For, in her heart, she hoped to give her pups a little peace before the impending dark plunged them into a violent death.

The pride was slow to attack. The prey had no way to escape. They had cut off, slowly, any route of useless attempts to do so. They did not want to run.
Soon they were visible to each other; the predator and the prey. Three lionesses came forward and looked down at three measly dogs. The meat for the evening.
The mother-dog stood in front of her scared brood. Her own hind legs shook terribly. She forced herself to look at the killers. She forced herself to bark against their roar. She made herself brave. And in that stance, she waited for the darkness to come.
But the darkness did not come. A hint of recognition won the day. For in the face of the lioness that stood at the head of the hunting pack she did not see slayer, killer or predator. She saw the face of an old friend.

Three dogs walk in the midst of desert-lions into a canyon of broken trees and forgotten wells. It is the only semi-shade in all the heat and the recognized face, now revealed as the queen of the pack, has declared it to be cool at night. It is already fading day.
The queen-lion and the mother-dog go to the head of a large boulder and talk under its unique shade. The boy-dog is intrigued by the size of the cubs and grabs his sister to go and explore these magnificent creatures of smaller stature. They all begin to play.
The mothers talk.
-I did not think you would survive running into the desert.
-I surprised myself.
-all these years and now you are a queen.
-by precedence not by achievement.
-Still...all this time...we are old, we have fresh-ones of our own.
-where is your male?
-which one? There are many. I have had many pups that have grown. My present male...he comes and goes. Your king?
- He comes here at night. He is probably hunting some female...not to eat as meat. I am not sad (laughs) male is male and female is female. It is the way of the species. It is the way of all nature.

-I always wondered why you left the commune.
-my heart wanted the wild, the open spaces, to be free of rules that contradict my nature. To be free.
-they say you murdered some chickens (glances uneasily at her children playing with the cubs).
-your pups are safe. I have ordered it so. I did eat those chickens. To eat meat is in my heart. I cannot fight it. It is my nature. But you are not meat. You are a friend. It seems the commune had some effect on me after all. I cannot eat a friend.
The mother-dog allows herself to relax under the powerful eyes of her friend. The sand is cooler here. She is weary from walking and talking and protecting. She falls asleep.
The boy-dog was playing with the girl-cub when he first heard that they would be eaten. He had beaten her to a third race around the canyon. She had a fond look on her face when she said:
-I will be sorry when we have to eat you, fast-one.
Her tone was cool. She had no frills about him being both friend and meat.

The boy-dog runs to his mother and begins to bark out this new revelation of their fate. He does not know that the queen-lion still remembers the bark-language apart from the common tongue of all creatures. His mother could not tell him to be quiet fast enough. He read it in his mother’s first look. He knew they were doomed.

-so this is the end for us?
-I am sorry.
-is there no other way?
-this is the only way, the way of nature. One day I will die and the vulture will be my predator. It is the way it is, the very real circle of life.

-it will be easier if you do not fight it. I will make the death fast for all of you.
- This was all a trap.
-I did not want to hunt you. This is better.
-for you!
-it was always going to end this way. Deceiving you was an act of mercy. My sisters-in-marriage can be vicious. I spared you their torture. Can’t you see? Once you fell into our path your lives were forfeit. This is the best way. It will be quick. I promise.

-what happened to you in the desert?
-I became who I truly am.
- A liar, a killer, an eater of friends!!
-a lion, a beast, a predator.
The queen says this with a roar and the canyon shakes. The other eaters tense, expecting the feast is almost at hand. But she goes silent again. The shadow of impending death leaves her eyes. For the moment…
The mother-dog knows it is only a temporary calm. For all her bold talk there is no hope left in her. She knows she will die here, with her children, her efforts at freedom ending in bloody failure.

-you were running away, weren’t you?
-Yes.
-why?
-to be free.
-where is freedom possible?
-I heard there is a place beyond the desert…a place….
-…flowing with milk and honey. I heard it too. Where the lion lies with the lamb and the heart is no longer hungry. It was the first rumour I heard of life beyond the commune. The rumour of my own heart was stronger.
-so you gave up?
- I settled for reality not some dream land. Do you know how many pilgrims to this utopia lie in my belly?
-I think you are one of those victims..
-silence! Once my husband comes we will feast.
-and this is your freedom; hunter for an absent male.
-no, this is my freedom; not trying to be more than I am. That will only kill you.
-it has killed me already.

The queen-lion thinks of these words long after her friend has gone silent. They twirl in her head like that first rush of courage that drove her into the desert. The early-morning joy, the first jolt, the risk before the let down. This was a letdown. She was free but empty. Freedom was nothing by itself. Once it saved you from the chains you were in: what next? Her next moment had never come.
Now she was stuck. She could not kill her friend. She knew it the moment she began the hunt. She had been altered by the mere possibility of leaving at peace with others. She was not a killer; she only pretended to be one, to fit in with her kind, to please her male, to hide herself. Every hunt had numbed her but none had cured her of the conscience of knowing there was something more. Something more.
The more was beyond her now but she made her final decision in worship of it. She arrived at that place of milk and honey without ever stepping on the land that held its promise.

The dog walked away, slowly, trying to hide the joy of escape. She was not going back to where she had come from. That would not be possible. She had travelled too far. Her pups stayed close to her side. Together they walked toward the promise of a new home.
The queen-lion watched the dogs fade with the day, out of sight. She knew what would happen next. Her orders had been firm and would be followed. The dogs were safe. She was not so sure of herself. She could already see, in her mind’s eye, the shadows gathering around her. The ancient code had to be appeased. New meat must be found. Someone else would die.
Still, as the shadows came, closer and closer, almost real, she had the vague rustling of that old joy. She felt like herself when she was young and fearless and ready to be different. She felt like she had defeated her own nature by betraying it. She felt like she was on her way home.