Trixie and I (with some help from Papa-T) are building a sandbox right now. It’s taking a while, but we are almost done.
This evening I was inside looking for a circle template so I could figure out what size drill bit I needed to attach the rope handle. Trixie was playing outside.
All of a sudden I heard screaming, “DADDY!! HELP! DADDDDDY!!!!!!! HELP! HELLLLP! There’s a WOLF!”
I ran to see a Trixie blur shoot past the window and dart across the backside of the porch. “DADDDY! HELP! There’s a WOLF after me!!! THERE’S A WOLF AFTER ME!”
When your child is screaming an alarm like that, you don’t hesitate to believe the danger for a second. She could have been hollering about Sleestak or robots and I would have been equally convinced. She bounded up the steps straight into my arms. Only then did I glance at what she was running from.
Lo and behold, over off the side of the yard was the neighbor’s huge, blackish-grey, extremely wolf-like Shepard mix docilely watching us. Even though it’s a big dog, they keep it inside so Trixie had never seen it before. Tonight was one heck of an introduction.
I was very proud of her for getting the hell out of there — she never ran that fast in soccer. After she calmed down a little, she was proud of herself also. “Whenever you see a wolf you are supposed to tell a grown-up,” she informed me. I’m thinking maybe more along the lines of animal control, but a grown-up is a step in the right direction.
You were a brave kid tonight, Trixie. Good job!