Quietly, Quiggly stepped into the darkness as he stealthily approached and steeled himself for the coming ordeal. At that point, I noticed that the door he was standing by was about ten feet away from where the dog-sitting woman stood. If he were to bark, his presence and subsequent barking would be revealed by the light outside coming in through the windows. The lady appeared to be calm and relaxed, just sitting in the dark. I could smell the perfume from outside as I had been sitting in front of the open door. There was also the odor of a cigarette and perhaps some light booze that had been consumed before him. The dog began to whine a little bit at that point. I knew there was something amiss, but didn't want to move forward for fear of discovery.
Quiggly took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth, a movement which resulted in his long tail, that had been lying across his body, now dropping to his side. It hit the ground hard, the vibrations causing him to move just a little. Not as much as would be expected of a tail, but enough so that the person in the room did not hear the movement and that Quiggly's paws did not hit the floor. There was a faint whining sound as he was prepared to move forward, and the whining increased slightly when Quiggly put his front paws down on the ground and prepared to make his move. The woman turned in her chair to take a drag on her cigarette and I heard a slight clicking sound as her lighter was put to use. As a flame jumped to life and then to higher life, the woman looked up to see where the noise was coming from. Instinctively, she pulled hard on the cigarette trying to put it out, but I also heard her say "whoa!" followed by a cry as she was in mid-drag and then the sound of an abrupt stop as the cigarette burned in her fingers, bringing her arm up to cover her face. She was in the process of turning back to her book when Quiggly sprung.
If he had not been so anxious to do what he had set out to do, he would not have sprung so suddenly. I can't say that I saw what happened, as I was still sitting in the same position at the doorway, and only had an idea of what was happening because of the movement of my friend. What I did see was the instant when Quiggly started to spring, and that was the instant that the lady made a sound and was bringing her arms up in front of her face in the defense mode that my mother taught her family all those years ago in that first class in the cave, when the bear came charging toward them. Even though I didn't actually see anything, I also heard the sound of the lady's forearm hitting something and her high-pitched scream as she tried to stifle her cry. It was definitely one of those "I-don't-want-to-go-to-bed-at-this-hour" type screams. My "I'm-going-to-let-you-know-that-I'm-still-here" howl was followed by Quiggly's howl, which caused Quiggly to be the first to cry out because of the loudness of his own cry. Then, he had to wait for a time to adjust his own howl to a more moderate level.
Once Quiggly was done, there was a silence in the room that was palpable, perhaps even more so than the one that preceded Quiggly's cry. It was then, after a time, that the woman lifted her arm away from her face and was no longer trying to contain a scream that was more in the way of a loud screech. Quiggly, with his nose to the door, sat on his haunches still howling, I still howling and the woman sitting with her eyes wide open staring at the dog, not knowing what to make of his behavior. Her scream had set in motion a chain of events that could have been more disastrous than the situation in the cave. Fortunately, for me and for Quiggly, it didn't go that way. There was a lot of commotion in that room but nobody got a visit from the police, nobody got a visit from a psychiatrist, nobody was sent away to prison. Not even the woman received a ticket, or so it seems.
Once Quiggly was done, he stepped forward to the threshold and was seen by the woman, but not by me. I was still sitting in the doorway. I was so close to her that I might as well have been sitting on her lap, since I was there before she got a look at him. Even before the woman saw Quiggly, she looked as though she was going to try to get up, but then she froze, a look of horror on her face, as she heard the clicking sound of the lighter being turned on. A quick jerk of her body toward the noise, looking in that direction, showed that the sound had come from the back of her head, a place where there was no place for anything to go. She froze in place as if trying to get up from the chair. But there was no going anywhere. Even though she turned in the chair, she couldn't get up. In addition to her immobility, she had a deathly pallor on her face. Then, the realization dawned that it was Quiggly and not that which she feared.
At first, I thought the woman was paralyzed. I certainly wasn't able to get up. She looked in my direction, but didn't react, didn't move a muscle. I couldn't look away from her eyes for a long time. But she didn't seem paralyzed. There was no movement of her facial muscles. I was so close to the woman that I felt as though I was sitting in her lap. She didn't look away, she didn't blink, nor did she blink when Quiggly jumped up onto the floor and settled into position, sitting on his haunches with his front paws on the floor and his back paws on the door-jamb. It is almost always that he sits in that particular position in order to be able to look out into the darkened room. It would not do to have his eyes close to the body of the woman, or too close to the ceiling. Quiggly wanted to be able to see in both directions, so that nothing could sneak up on him. I am not aware of his eyesight, so I am unable to say whether the light came from the ceiling, but if it did, it couldn't have been as bright as my light, as he didn't look at all the way I did.
When Quiggly was sitting there on his haunches, he was on his guard, alert and prepared for what might happen next. I was worried too, since I could see the light of the cigarette that the woman was trying to put out, but couldn't do anything about it. She was shaking her hand wildly, but the hand was out of view from where I was. I could see her hand and the cigarette, but I couldn't see the face of the woman, the face that I knew so well. It was a very frightening moment in time.
Quiggly did not make a sound, even when her voice cracked in what I thought was a plea for help. It is true, you would think that a voice pleading for help would elicit a response from the human being, but Quiggly was too well trained to do anything more than what he was doing. He simply sat, in the form of a dog, and looked. I would like to think that at this moment Quiggly had a knowing that this woman wanted to go to the bathroom, and her eyes were fixed on the door because there were so many distractions in that room. It didn't appear that way to me, but that may be because I have always known him to respond to that specific stimulus. Quiggly had been to her house before, so I can't say that he didn't respond to what she was doing because he didn't know what the gesture of her hand meant. I don't know if she had a glass of water with her or anything that might have attracted him. If it had been something that was lying on the floor beside her, it would have drawn his attention immediately, and that is what I believe happened in this case. I believe that is why he didn't respond at the very beginning of this incident. This is a good example of why your pets are such reliable friends, since it was Quiggly who was witness to the situation. But Quiggly, like all good hunters, doesn't do anything unless it is absolutely necessary.
For some time, I had been sitting in the open doorway of the house, watching what was going on. I just couldn't get up because I was so scared to go anywhere. I just sat there and had my nose by the door. I had hoped that whatever was coming would pass me by, or that I would hear it coming and be able to get out. I didn't even consider the possibility that Quiggly might try to attack me. At that time, I had no idea that his personality was such that he would not hurt anyone, although he had a tendency to defend himself when there were no apparent reasons to do so. Quiggly had never hurt me, except for the time when he bumped my nose with his head and I received a slight cut and some scrapes. Even then, I was not injured. So, I had
