I was wandering the streets of a neglected city. I knew I wasn’t at The City, but that I was wandering the shadows of a physical town somewhere. I heard a crying, a muffled whimpering, and it was drawing me through the blinded streets.
Dawn and dusk at the same time, I walked freely in the liminal spaces while people did as people wanted to do around me. Tickets were written, stores were opened, busses ran late, while taxis dodged traffic. Women went jogging, men walked dogs, kids ditched school, while crews dug up sidewalks. I walked through the midst of them, unseen.
The crying led me to two-story house. The trees told me a family used to live here, but they disappeared one day. The grass was several months overgrown. The fence was in disrepair. I passed into the backyard where the reason for the family’s removal was evident.
A large tree had fallen over, crushing the back of the house. Toys from the girl’s upstairs bedroom was strewn in the drying mud. The kitchen was crushed, the stove compressed on one side.
But this tragedy was not what was calling me. The whimpering was louder among the fallen branches. I crawled over the grounded canopy and found a bitch nursing 4 small puppies. She looked up at me, and wagged her tail.
She is the first animal to see me.
I know she, and her pups, doesn’t belong here. The same storm that brought down the tree, brought her here. If she remains, the pups will die. But she is too weak to carry them to safety.
She looks like a cross between a wolf, a husky, and a German Shepherd. I know she is none of the above. I pet her gently while checking the pups for any obvious signs of harm.
“Tell you what. I’ll carry the pups. You lead the way.” She licked my hand and face in agreement with the idea. The pups finished nursing, so I waited beside while she cleaned and comforted them. Her nurturing tasks completed, she rose to her feet and chirped at me.
Not barked. Chirped.
I carefully picked up four squirming, squealing, milk-smelling, black and grey puppies and held them snug in my arms. At first they were afraid, then soon settled down into warm comfort.
The bitch sniffed and licked all four pups, then sniffed and licked me in approval. She suddenly howled a piercing tone that chilled my bones. A fierce wind picked up and pulled at the immediate area. In the distance I heard people shouting in concern. Calls of ‘tornado’ and ‘microburst’ sent people running for shelter. The bitch stared at me as the winds increased. I returned the glare, without fear.
Noiselessly she dissolved into the wind. I spread my black wings and allowed the wind to pick me up like a parasail. To the mundane eye, she was a gust of wind, and I was a large raven chasing it. She led a path of safety through the storm for her pups. The task was a simple and easy one for me, but her pups were too young to follow on the wind.
We crossed several states and I was able to locate where I was. I had found her in northern Georgia. She led me to southern Ohio where we stopped briefly so she could nurse the pups. They settled once more into my warm embrace and we took to the wind again. An old forest in North Dakota was our destination. Thick and fearsome to people, the trees themselves seemed to welcome the bitch with gentle waves as we descended.
She quickly restored an abandoned den, then took the pups from me, one by one. She did allow me to kiss each pup in farewell as she did. Her litter now safe, she came and rested against me for a while.
Time passed and I knew my welcome was over. She sniffed and licked my face one final time, then her, pups, and den disappeared from my sight.
The undergrowth allowed me to walk to a clearing large enough for me to take flight. I knew without looking back, the forest had sealed itself behind me. I had no hard feelings about it. I had a job to do, the job is done. Time to go home.
And I did.