Spooked Maya

Last Friday when we walked on the mountain Maya was extremely nervous. It was getting late, around 4:30, but I knew we had time before we lost the light. The sunset was at 5:04 and we'd have a while after that. When we reached as far up as we were going, she clearly wanted to head back, so we started down on the main, most direct trail. The sun through the woods as we headed pretty much due west was incredible and I was dawdling and taking a few pictures.

At one point I leashed Maya so we could go by a muddy patch without her bounding through it. Then I let her loose again. Apparently I wasn't moving fast enough because, after dashing ahead of me for a spell, she returned and started pulling at the leash that was still in my hand. I stopped and she waited. I started to put the leash back on her but then decided not to yet. I shooed her on and she went a little way, turned and watched me, and then returned to bite at the leash some more. Again I stopped and she waited to be leashed, so I did. She took off pulling me! It was one of the most deliberately communicative things I've seen her do, though I have never doubted her intelligence. She was so clearly saying, "Let's go!" She tends toward nervousness and she was definitely uncomfortable about something. I've seen her like that before, especially when it's nearly twilight. It was difficult to accommodate her this day because the sunset though the trees was like a tight, brilliant fire on the horizon and it gave the forest an unusual glow. The picture below was taken then. It was lovely but odd.

Maya wasn't a bit pleased with my stopping. She tugged me all the way back to the car. When she climbed into the back seat and I was putting on her harness (yeah, her seat belt, so she isn't tossed about) she remained jittery. She stood very erect as I buckled her in, staring apprehensively up the trail we'd just come off. It was exactly sunset when I settled into my seat.

She has been like that at least a couple of times before. Once, shortly after I'd found these trails on the mountain, she had behaved as if she were scared, more uneasy than even than this time. Then, too, it was around dusk. Another time when she was quite little and still on a leash she just flatly refused to go into a darkening trail, to the point of sitting down and refusing to move though she was on the point of being dragged. I relented and turned around.

I wonder, is it just the dimming light or does she sense things. Are other animals about that she hears or smells? This time, with the light so incredibly beautiful, I wasn't bothered by her nervousness. At other times, though, with just the two of us supposedly alone in the forest, well ... sometimes it's just best not to tarry.