Nature’s little question mark

SHERWOOD KIRALY

I knew a guy once, and you probably did too, whose conviction it was

that everything in nature had its beneficial purpose. This pest ate

that pest, spiders caught flies, many parts of a pine tree were

edible and all was part of life’s rich pageant. I wish I had him here

now, because our Welsh springer spaniel Booker has a question for

him.

On weekend mornings my wife Patti Jo takes Booker for a walk on

the fire road between Top of the World and Arch Beach Heights, and

Booker has always loved these walks because he gets to socialize with

other dogs. Booker is friendly

and never aggressive, which is good because he can’t fight.

This failing was underlined two weekends ago when he got beaten up

and bitten by a bully dog. My old friend would say this was Darwinian

and all for the best. After a trip to the vet and some antibiotics

Booker’s bite wound healed quickly. The psychic scars took a little

longer.

Patti Jo sings a breakfast song to Booker every morning and he

barks along with it, but on the Monday after he got bit he moaned his

part, singing the blues. By the weekend, however, he felt he was up

to the fire road again, and Patti Jo said he seemed to have a good

time.

The next day he began licking the bottom of his left front paw

obsessively.

At first we thought he was imitating the cats, but by nighttime he

was contorting himself to get to his feet without putting weight on

his foot. A Welsh springer spaniel looking up at you with one paw

held up limply . . . that’s a poster of sad.

We could see that the pad area was red and inflamed, so it was

back to the vet, who dug out a small thorny sliver. There are several

of these on the fire road -- needle-like thorns, shaped like question

marks.

Booker came home but he wasn’t out of the woods, or rather the

woods weren’t yet out of him. Over the next few days the top of the

paw developed a big puffy red angry bump which turned out to have a

foxtail inside it, along with a lot of oozy, bloody -- well, I’m a

manly man from the rugged Midwest, and all I can say is it was icky.

Booker and I both whimpered a little while Patti Jo cleaned it out.

Booker’s better now, if a little subdued. He’s thinking things

over. Thorns shaped like question marks. Stickers with feathery

tails, like darts. The question Booker would ask, as he holds up his

paw, is “What’s the idea of these?”

My old acquaintance was a resourceful chap and would probably

reply that question-mark thorns are put on earth so that dogs can get

their antibiotic pill rolled up in pieces of Kraft cheese food. That

guy could spin anything.