Maxie fancies herself a bit of a superhero – something akin to Wonder Woman with some 40-year-old virgin thrown in.
It’s not a far stretch. Squint your eyes, and you can almost see her royal blue cape flapping in the wind. She can bound great heights, balance nimbly on rocks and fences, and, despite her bulkiness, perform a delicate ballet. Some seem to think her pale blue eyes and Richard Alpert eyeliner give her special zombie-like powers. It’s all balderdash and supposition, but lends to her overall mystique.
I imagine her more the old school Wonder Woman -- not the modern, slutty one with her tight leggings and denim jacket, but the wholesome Amazon in star spangled granny panties and eagle blazoned bustier -- all the better to show off her powerful thighs and prodigious chest. She stands for truth, justice, and the American way of life. She rose in utero from a flood-ravaged Mississippi to emerge and be born in California where her true identity was revealed. Don’t let her mild mannered demeanor and wide-eyed naivety fool you. She’s a steel magnolia. You mess with her or her posse, and she’s going take you down.
Her secret identity unfolded when I suffered a sudden and devastating hearing loss. I had total and immediate loss on one side. The other side severely overcompensated, making it nearly impossible to leave the house alone. For several weeks I sat vulnerable in our Fortress of Solitude, unable to do much of anything. She proclaimed herself my personal bodyguard and laid out plans to vanquish the enemy.
Her top priority is to protect both me and the Fortress from nefarious package delivery people. In this endeavor she is highly successful. Trucks drive up. Drivers approach the door. She gnashes and barks, throws herself against the double paned glass, and they flee. She has familiarized herself with their uniforms, their vehicles, their logos. Whether they’re on foot or driving a Jeep or a tractor-trailer, if they’re sporting an offending logo, she’s on to them. Fed Ex, DHL, UPS – she has her eye on all of them. Thus far her perceived success rate is 100%, though trouble looms on the horizon. It seems the postal workers have had enough of her slights, and seem to be demanding some respect. A few days ago a USPS truck pursued us doggedly for several blocks. Ultimately, it chickened out, taking a quick right to hide in a sleepy neighborhood. We chalked it up to coincidence. Then yesterday, under the guise of starting their daily routes, three postal trucks expertly boxed us in: one fore, on aft, one starboard, hedges to port. They seem to be driving home a message. Fortunately the creek is running a bit low, so any threat of sleeping with fishes is probably moot, at least until the rainy season.
There are less frequent encounters with those who are evil incarnate. Maxie can sniff out bad energy like nobody’s business, and she’s not having it. If you’re a shady, lying, cheating dirt bag, or just generally emit a creepy aura, she’s not cutting you any slack. She will endlessly bark at and encircle you until you get the message. Stay away! Stay away or I’ll…bark.
Outside the Fortress, she sticks to me like glue. Though our radius is elastic, she makes sure I’m always in her line of sight. Only an errant coyote or deer can drive her away. She steps it into high gear, not to bring them down, but to eject them from our circle on safety.
She nurtured Pluto as a puppy, sharing her toys and leaving him food. Once he was big enough to venture out, on every hike she considered herself on the job. She constantly scanned the periphery for danger, refusing her treats or attempts at affection. By now she understands he’s a bit of a hooligan, and it baffles her. Clearly he will never have a job of his own. She still keeps a slightly less vigilant watch but rarely steps in for him. You can almost hear her eye rolling and exasperated sighs. He’s Pinky to her Brain.
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