Ferae Naturae

Just at the crack of dawn two ferocious dogs got into a fight at the compost heap. They looked rabid but I think had been rooting around through the stove ash. Big dogs, I don't know what kind, large hound size but built more like the Black Mouth Cur, often used to hunt boar in the south. Still a big deal along the Mississippi and especially on the islands. I never went on a boar hunt, but I built a barn for a guy who raised the dogs, and trained them to catch piglets, so that he could raise them, and sell them to hunters. The dogs were bothering me, I don't feed hummingbirds anymore because their fighting bothers me; and I hate to be bothered, so I went out with the wrist-rocket sling-shot and ran the dogs off. A man deserves his peace. A person sub-serves to the need at hand. You cut off the bad, there's no reason to carry dead weight, and just get on with where the sun rises and where it sets. If we look at the history of moonlight closely, there's more than a hint of an imagined supernatural. Things look different in the dark. I was reading today in a book, Early English Text, translated from the Old English. Tough stuff. Bringing that much older oral tradition into a codified form; a rough and tumble tale. Shadows on the cave or castle walls, open fires and pitch torches. Enough to put the fear of god, any god, into you. So you buy the package. The whole traveling cirque. Belief systems further no gain. Right?