Front Porch Conversations: Black lab vs. crawdad—Learning from life’s battles

By STEPHANIE PORTER-NICHOLS/Columnist

As a warning to readers, it’s important to acknowledge that animals were harmed in the gathering of material for this column. A crustacean met an untimely end, and a black lab, I hope, learned a valuable lesson. Well, that last part is more wishful than realistic. Despite multiple encounters, the 3-year-old hasn’t even learned that skunks have the power to make him and his owners miserable for days.
The adventure began harmlessly enough. My husband having to work late and our gang of dogs needing a walk provided me with the perfect rationale to leave work while the sun was still shining Thursday.
Fantasies of stopping to smell the newly bloomed lilacs and visiting a grove carpeted with purple wild violets floated through my mind. However, we all know how the best laid plans tend to work out.
As we approached a small stream, suddenly the lab, Nox, transformed from a happy, laid-back pet into a hunter intent on a kill. His neck stretched out, his ears went down and all the muscles in his 80-pound body tensed.
I was mystified. None of the other dogs had picked up an animal’s scent. The grass wasn’t tall enough to hide a critter of even rabbit size. Nonetheless, Nox pounced. After a few seconds, I breathed a sigh of relief when no squeals of distress emanated from the canine’s mouth. Even the death cries of a field mouse make me squirm.
Quickly and unexpectedly, though, Nox was shaking his head in distress. A moment later the big dog spit something from his mouth with such force that it landed feet away. Yet, the lab was determined. He pursued the creature again, and once again he responded with what can only be described as projectile spitting.
In between gulps of laughter at the dog, I finally got a glimpse of a claw and recognized the pincher of a crawdad. Only this was no ordinary crayfish. It was the super-sized version. I have only seen crustaceans that big on seafood platters accompanied by hot butter.
As I was overcome by a sudden craving for lobster, the dog and crawdad continued to wage their battle. The dog’s face reflected utter amazement that this creature was proving formidable against jaws that easily take out groundhogs.
Moments later, a loud crunch heralded Nox’s victory. He collapsed on the ground and poked his kill around a bit to make sure the fight was truly over.
I laughed at the way he raised his eyes to carefully scrutinize this unexpected appetizer. He was prepared for a literal snack attack.
A few minutes later my laughter turned to groans as Nox began hacking up bits of shell.
Neither his fantasy nor mine became a reality. That’s OK. Sometimes the unexpected events, especially those that inflict pain, reveal life’s greatest lessons. Unlike our canine companions, we possess the ability to recognize the potential for grace in even the most difficult circumstances. Ultimately, it is up to each of us whether we choose to learn from them.
From this experience, time will tell whether Nox learned anything, and I’m simply hoping the weekend will present an opportunity for a seafood dinner that doesn’t require a wrestling match with the entrée.

Stephanie Porter-Nichols is editor of the Smyth County News & Messenger.