Frisbee and Crabs

In contrast to the hyperactive, frisbee loving German Shepherd Mynos, Mythos was the picture of reserve and calm. He was a big dog, very big. Anatolian shepherds, also known as Kangals, are one of the oldest, arguably the oldest, dog breed in the world, and are legendary for their size, strength, and power. They have the most powerful bite force of all dogs, ten times that of a pit bull, and can crush bone like candy with their powerful jaws. Curt had once seen Mythos reduce a two-foot pig femur to a powdery dust in under two minutes, so he knew that what was said about them was no hyperbole. Their size and strength served them well historically and they found uses in war, but mostly in times of peace, as livestock guardians protecting flocks of sheep on the Anatolian plains from large predatory cats and hyena. Despite their size and strength, they are the epitome of gentle giants and generally have a friendly disposition. Mythos was wonderful with other people, especially children, and had a gentleness of character that was very out of sync with his appearance. Mythos had a repertoire of facial expressions that was as expansive or more so than any human Curt knew. He had learned, or felt that he had learned, through years of close observation, to see the dogs mind, his emotions and thoughts, in real time. As they moved through his brain, they were projected onto his face like waves of water projecting on the surface of the ocean.

Finally, Curt had gathered up what he needed for his day at the beach with the dogs. He leashed both animals and together they walked out of the house towards Curt's beat up but still (just barely) running truck. The two dogs piled in the back seat as soon as Curt opened the door, Mynos jumping right up and over the bigger Mythos' back in her excitement. Mythos barely noticed the intrusion on his personal space and, in contrast to the excited Mynos, ambled slowly to the door, hopped up with what appeared to be a great effort and sat quietly waiting for Curt to get in the driver seat and start the truck. Mythos's expressive face was a good match for his acting abilities, which were always on full display wherever physical effort was concerned. He had a way of making the simplest of physical movements, like jumping up a mere six inches into the backseat of a car, seem like a Herculean task.

They made the short drive to the beach without incident and the two dogs decamped from the car in a similar manner as they had entered. Mynos leaping over Mythos in her excitement, Mythos slowly, torturously, lumbering down from the seat to the ground. Curt led them by their leashes down the long dirt ramp to the beach. The beach was semi private and generally sparsely populated and today there was not another soul in sight. Curt let Mynos off her leash as soon as they reached the bottom of the ramp and she immediately began running in tight circles around him and Mythos, kicking up sand as she went. He knew he would have to throw the frisbee at least once before he could focus on releasing the big guy from his own leash so he quickly reached into his bag and let the frisbee fly as far as he could manage. He did not even look to see if Mynos made the catch, before turning to unhook Mythos from his leash. He slowly followed Curt as he walked away up the beach in the direction of his frisbee throw. He tossed the frisbee to Mynos twice more and she made two spectacular flying grabs, and had just let fly a third throw when he noticed the sudden change in the weather.

In the ten minutes Curt and his two dogs had been at the beach the weather had deteriorated rapidly. The temperature had dropped by at least five degrees and a dewy, thick mist had rolled in off the ocean which quickly enveloped the beach making visibility poor at best. The last frisbee Curt had released disappeared into the mist only moments after he made the long throw, and Mynos running full speed in its direction disappeared with it. A few seconds later Curt heard a loud yelp of pain from the direction Mynos had gone. Mythos had heard it too, and the dog emitted a growl so deep, fierce and vicious that it made his hairs stand on end. Even though he knew it had come from his best friend, at that moment, for just a split second, Curt feared for his own safety. Suddenly the big dog took off at full speed in the direction of Mynos. It caught Curt totally by surprise, and his brain barely had time to register the dog had begun to move before he too was lost in the mists. Mythos was always very protective of Mynos. If something, or heaven forbid, someone had hurt Mynos they were going to be in serious jeopardy. An angry Mythos was capable of just about anything, and it would take nothing less than an act of God to stop him.

He took off after Mythos, running as fast as he could. Before he made it no more than ten yards he heard a loud snap, then another, then a cracking sound, and a barely audible squeal or cry, then more snaps and cracks, and then even more. By the time he had made it twenty yards he must have heard at least 50 or maybe even a hundred of these snapping sounds and soft squealing noises. Through it all he could hear Mythos growling and snarling loudly. He finally reached the two dogs and saw what it was that had produced those sounds. Before him lay a field of dead crabs, more than dead, they had been ripped to shreds, torn asunder by the anger crazed Mythos. Crab legs and claws and shell parts were strewn everywhere. As he watched, stunned into silence, he saw one crab make a break for the water only to have Mythos catch it up into his huge powerful jaws and crunch down, then shake his head back and forth crazily, the crab disintegrating in his mouth as he chewed and shook. Saliva ran down the dog's mouth and flew in all directions. Mynos sat off to the side watching him, her head bowed, tail down between her legs. She shook like a leaf, and was as scared as he had ever seen her. He moved to her quickly and wrapped her up in his arms whispering to her that it was OK, that she was going to be OK, that she was a good dog. She looked at him, licked his face and relaxed some, but remained nervous. Curt spent a few more moments talking softly to Mynos and checking her for any injuries, thankfully not finding anything serious. Her nose bled slightly from one side where it appeared one of the crabs had snapped with a claw, likely when Mynos attempted to retrieve her frisbee. Once he was satisfied she was not hurt or in any immediate danger he looked over his shoulder, scanning the area where he had last seen Mythos. The huge dog had finally calmed down as there were no more crabs alive anywhere in sight. He looked at Curt and Mynos and ambled slowly over to them. When he got within ten feet or so Curt stood and walked toward him. Mythos looked at him directly in the eyes and Curt saw there something like sadness or guilt and a wish for forgiveness, but still tinged with an edge of anger and madness. It melted Curt's heart and he ran to Mythos hugging him tightly, exactly as he had done with Mynos only moments earlier. He dropped down to his knees and held the big dog's head in his hands, looked at him directly and said "It's ok boy. It's ok. Mynos is fine, and you are fine, it's time to go home." That seemed to bring some relief to the pain he saw in Mythos's expressive face, the sadness and anger ebbed away like the tide, and in its place returned the happy, goofy, strangely calm and meditative look that was his everyday face. That look calmed Curt's nerves as well, and he quietly and quickly attached leashes to both dogs, and hustled them away from the horrific scene of death and destruction that Mythos has created in his rage. He did not want to be anywhere near if anyone from the neighborhood or local beach patrol showed up and started asking questions. He had no idea exactly what he would say to explain it. They saw no one on their return trek to the truck, likely they had the poor weather to thank for that, and within minutes they were all packed into the truck on their way home.