I'd walked the quarter mile here in daylight. Now I had to walk it back at night. Trouble was I couldn't see my own hand held an inch from my face. It was that dark. Not one star. Wine addled and people satiated I'd have to navigate blind.

Everyone had left, packed so solidly in their cars that not an iota of space was left for an extra body or two. I could have asked for a ride in an open trunk with legs dangling over the road or borrowed a flashlight. Too late. Guess that's why it's called an afterthought.

In this rugged enclave of the Laurentian Foothills, large lotted cottages back onto the winding Rouge River or nestle on inclines of low hills. The party cottage was of the latter, with a long, narrow mud rutted driveway curving this way and that on a tilt up or down, depending on which way you were going. I was going down. Hopefully not falling down or mis-stepping into nettles or other scratchy things. The 'main' road was dirt and pebble, bounded by ditches, bounded by wild prickly growth.

My sister, not wine addled on just such a dark night, walked up my relatively straight driveway to the car she had parked on the side of the road. Simple. She lost her bearings wandering into a wildflower and prickle ridden field, thrashing her way through nettles and daisies only to find herself at the afore mentioned cottage a quarter of a mile away. I didn't want to follow her footsteps in reverse.

My dilemma was dark. But hey! Did I mention that I'd brought my dog with me? A Springer Spaniel I'd left outside to taste her freedom in the night. A dangerous choice in after thought, considering her penchant to wander about. She was a joyful thief who would slip her tethers, raiding the garbage cans at the children's camp, only to be led back, humbled in the eyes, but licking her lips. I needed to talk to her.

"So." I said  "Bonnie, come here and listen. It's so dark that I cannot see. Lead me, us, home safely. I'm counting on you because I cannot rely on my blind self." There was a second or two of silence while she digested this information. I groped for her collar and clipped on the leash, which thankfully I'd had the forethought to bring with me. "Go slow Bonnie girl," I implored.

Bonnie, set a pace so slow and cautious I knew she'd read my words. We inched along, the dog warm by my legs nudging me away from unseen obstacles. The hellish driveway behind us, we hit the main road. It was easier going here on a flatter, wider surface but there were the ditches to consider. Considered they were as I was led safely home. 

I believe I wept from sheer relief or maybe from a feeling of deep dogie love. "Thank you, thank you Bonnie." I gushed as I hugged my savior dog. "Good Bonnie, Bonnie you done darn Bonnie good!" She drew back, put her paw on my knee, tilted her head and looked at me. Her big brown eyes spoke. "Well, what did you expect?" they said. "I love You." "I love you too Bonnie girl."

Grapher 2017