Feathers

       The two angels stood serenely on a slab of granite overlooking the vast wilderness before them. It was still a couple of hours before sunset and the light coming over the mountains and across the valley floor was still bright and clear with the promise of a gorgeous evening.

       A few yards in front of them a man sat on a rock outcropping, his legs dangling over the rocky ledge. His hands lay quietly in his lap, his shoulders slumped from the heaviness in his spirit. The angels could see the darkness around him even in the clear mountain light.

       There was no need for speech between the two heavenly beings because they both knew why they had been sent. They were permitted no direct interaction with the man even though they sensed his sadness and desperation. But, as agents of guardianship, they were permitted influence. To that end, they both turned their attention to the valley below them. A few scattered dwellings were visible through the forested rural land. Further up the valley, where the outskirts of a small village began, a few lights were beginning to blink on against the coming night and the deepening shadows of the nearby mountain.

        Not far below where the angels and the man were, in the cluttered yard of a precariously perched cabin, a medium sized, scrawny brown dog struggled and strained against the old, dirty rope around its neck. Hunger and incessant cold energized the dog in his struggle against the rope, which like everything else in the yard and small hut was old, frayed and aged. The dog hadn’t been fed for two days and his muddy water bowl was empty. He could detect no sign, no hint, not even the faintest scent of the man who had grudgingly fed him his meager meals. Loneliness also added strength to the dog in his desperate struggle with the frayed rope. The two angels, watching from far above the scene, gave a single nod and the rope snapped, falling from the neck of the struggling dog. The dog stumbled and nearly fell at the sudden release but with barely a backward glance at his wretched surroundings, trotted off into the trees. He could smell water from a small spring fed creek just up a nearby ridge and hurried to it on wobbly and weak legs.

        The two angels, satisfied for the moment with the dog’s release, turned their attention again to the man still sitting on the ledge before them. They could feel and see the darkness that surrounded him growing larger and stronger. They sent a massive amount of love to him and watched as the threatening blackness stalled and fell from the man. A temporary fix they knew but necessary in this dire and dangerous circumstance. They knew what the man did not or had forgotten, that love comes from within. The two angels bore no judgement about how many humans seemed to have forgotten that the wellspring of love they needed, craved and searched for was already theirs. That they all had instant access to it, that they had all been gifted with it upon the moment of their divine creation. That if they took advantage of this, no darkness could ever overtake them. But, sometimes gentle reminders were required.

         They turned again from the man to watch as the brown dog slaked his thirst at the creek and paused for a moment to gain a little strength from the cold, clear water. His stomach growled reminding him of his hunger and after relieving himself on a low growing Laurel bush, decided to follow the worn footpath that led up the ridge from the creek.

         The trail held faint traces of human scent and the dog knew that his best chances of finding food lay with humans. The trail wound a circular route around the top of the ridge and abruptly ended in a large dirt and gravel parking area. The scent of humans was much stronger there, mixed with the smells of metal, oil and scattered trash that had overflowed from the pole mounted garbage cans.

         Sniffing at the strewn trash on the ground and briefly at the cans, the dog found nothing of interest until he spotted a lone human sitting on a rocky ledge. Hunger overcame the dog’s natural wariness and he moved cautiously toward the occupied rocky outcropping.

The two angels, invisible to both the dog and the man, watched silently, patiently as their influence came to fruition.

         The dog padded silently toward the man desperate, hungry, fearful, but determined to approach his only hope for survival. The closer the dog got to the man, the slower and lower to the ground he got. A quiet whimper from the dog caused the man to turn suddenly, surprise on his face at the sight of a dog lying a few feet from him. The dog whimpered again and turned on his back, his tail swishing furiously, his belly exposed in total submission.

         The man turned fully, his mind no longer dwelling on his sadness, but now turning this odd turn of events into questions. Where had this dog come from? He scanned the parking lot to find his car still the only one in evidence. A wild dog? Rabid? Not from the dog’s demeanor, he thought. Pretty damn skinny, though.

         The two angels watched in silent approval as the colors swirling around the man went from dark and gray to lighter, warmer, softer tones.

         The man approached the dog slowly, still scanning the empty parking lot for other people. Seeing no evidence of anyone else, he stooped to murmur softly at the skinny dog before him.

         “Hey there, boy, what are you doing up here by yourself?” The dog whimpered, still submissive, trembling a bit, anxious but unafraid. He could read the man’s color as well as the angels. The man reached out his hand slowly, offering the dog a chance to sniff at him before gently touching the dog’s exposed belly. The dog ceased all movement at the man’s touch but started wagging his tail again as the man’s hand lingered on his body.

         “You do seem friendly,” murmured the man as he stood. The dog immediately stood with him, tail still wagging furiously and leaned against the man’s leg.

         “Whoa,” smiled the man as he watched the dog circle him in obvious pleasure at his company.                           “Bet you’re hungry,” said the man, once again noting the dog’s ribs sticking out under the copper colored fur. “Hmm, got half a sandwich in my lunch sack. You like bologna?” The dog paused his circling for a moment, trying to decipher the man’s tone and meaning.

         “Well, come on then,” said the man, patting his leg as he started towards his car. The dog followed happily, his eyes on the face of his new friend. The angels watched in delighted silence as they saw the dog’s colors change also.

           The man was surprised when he opened his car door to see the copper colored dog leap past him to settle quickly into the passenger seat. 

          “Looks like you know about cars,” mused the man as he slid heavily into the driver’s seat. The dog, curious and excited, watched as the man reached behind his seat for a paper bag and his work thermos. The half of a bologna sandwich lasted for two quick, snappish bites as the dog swallowed and licked his lips appreciatively. The man poured some cold water in his thermos cup and almost had to grin as the dog slurped and slobbered clumsily, spilling water and dog slobber on the man and the seat.

          “Ain’t very good at drinkin’ out of a cup though,” smiled the man, still scanning the area for any sign of the dog’s owner.

         They sat quietly for a moment after the man wiped the remains away, both still unsure of each other but neither uncomfortable.

          “Well, I guess I can’t just leave you here, but dang if I know what to do with you.” The man turned to look at the dog who chose that moment to lay down, crossing his front paws and laying his head on the man’s leg. After a surprised moment, the man let his hand gently caress the dogs head and slide along his neck and shoulders. The dog let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes. After another moment the dog seemed to relax even more and began to snore softly.

          “Well…hell,” said the man softly to himself before sighing and putting the car in gear. The man pulled slowly away and headed back down into the town below. The dog didn’t wake up

          Back on the rocky overlook, the two angels had disappeared. A single white feather lay on the rock where they had stood until a gust of wind swirled it away over the ledge and into the valley below.

          “Hey, George,” said the man leaning from the drive-thru window offering a bag full of cheeseburgers and steak fries.

           “Hey, Paul,” replied the man, trading a few bills for the bag of food.

           “Ain’t seen you much lately. Good to see you out and about again. Was sorry to hear about Ruby’s passing.”

           “Yeah, I’ve been…busy.” The dog was fully awake and quivering quietly, his nose working overtime at the delicious smells coming from the bag.

           “See you got a new friend,” said Paul, leaning to get a better look.

           “Found him up at the overlook. Didn’t see nobody around with him. Think he’s a stray.”

           “Does look like he could use a couple of good meals,” grinned Paul, then turned for a moment before handing a small cup back through the window. “Here, give him this.”

           The man, George, looked questioningly at the small cup as he took it from his friend.

           “It’s just a little whipped cream. We give it free to all the dogs. They love it,” said Paul.

George held the little cup, surprised by the dog’s obvious excitement and pleasure as he devoured the delicious treat.

           “Don’t think he’s had any of that before,” smiled George as he wiped his fingers on his pants while the dog licked his lips, searching for any remains of the creamy delight.

           “Yeah,” agreed Paul. “That bag of burgers probably won’t last long either. Maybe have to get to Wal-Mart over by the interstate. Ain’t much else open this time of night if you want to get him some food.”

           “Probably right. Think Ol’ Doc Hutton’s still open?”

           “Oh, hell no. On a Friday night? Nah, he’s probably halfway to his fishin’ cabin,” laughed Paul, leaning out further to take another look at the dog. “He don’t look too bad, a little skinny, maybe needs a good washin’. Guess he’ll make it ‘till Monday.”

           “Well,” sighed George, “Guess I’ll have me a weekend guest. Reckon it’ll be nice to have a little company.”

           The men said their goodbyes and George drove away, his attention on the dog whose attention remained on the bag of burgers.

           George pulled into the driveway of a small ranch style cabin that he and his wife had lived in for thirty five years. The twenty five acres surrounding it had provided plenty of privacy yet wasn’t so far from town that they had felt isolated. He let the dog out and waited while his new canine friend sniffed and peed and then stood expectantly, tail wagging, watching George’s face for cues.

        “Might as well come on in, then,” muttered George to the dog. Seeming to understand, the dog followed George up the steps across the front porch and into the house. George watched as the dog gulped his share of the cheeseburgers down, noisily chomping and drooling with obvious pleasure. George munched thoughtfully on his own sandwich as the dog finished and turned his big, soft eyes on the uneaten part of George’s burger. George paused, then smiled and tossed the rest of his meal in the dog’s dish. “Gonna’ have to get you your own bowl tomorrow. Don’t think my wife would’ve appreciated you sloppin’ up her good salad bowl.”

        The dog finished licking the bowl then turned and walked to where George sat and laid his big head on George’s knee, looking up at him, his soulful eyes full of gratitude.

        “You’re welcome, boy,” said George, resting one of his gnarled, work hardened hands on the dog’s head. “Guess you’ll have to make do with an old blanket for a bed tonight,” said the old man softly. The dog gave a contented sigh, his head still on the old man’s lap and closed his eyes, leaning heavily into George’s legs.

        For the first time in a long time, peace found its way into George’s lonely heart. A heaviness fell from his shoulders like a wet, soggy winter coat dropped onto the floor. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling comfortable enough to let rest seep into his body.

Outside, the two angels stood at the edge of the clearing, impervious to the chilly evening wind that had sprung up with the coming night. They watched as the darkness that had previously surrounded the man dissipate and turn into soft, pulsing colors that clearly denoted life returning to the man’s spirit. They continued to watch as the dog’s own color began to pulse in rhythm with the man.

        Their work now completed, the angels turned and vanished. Up on the porch, a small white feather drifted on the evening breeze to finally come to rest on the man’s favorite rocking chair. High above in the darkening skies the stars twinkled brightly as a peace, a blessed, healing peace, blanketed the sacred valley.

                                                                           The End

Author’s Note

        Depression is real and very often hard to spot in our friends and family, especially for those untrained to be alert for any symptom and signs that may be present. As this fictional story alludes to, it is sometimes the simplest interaction that can bring someone back from the brink. I am not trained or knowledgeable in any of the many facets of this issue but there are many people and organizations that are. September is Suicide Prevention Month and I urge everyone to support the people and programs trying to reach those in need. This story is a humble dedication to my long- time friend, Dean. May he be blessed and welcomed home. 

September, 2020