Lepidoptera

Tibe’s approach to the nature world is to explore with his mouth. Like most canines, he is a sniffer, but he is also eager to experience the world orally. Crows? Delicious. The hedgehog? Wonder what he tastes like. He loves all manner of greenery: grass, dandelions, ivy, and flowers. He puts everything into his mouth to explore it, to understand more of his world. This week, I discovered an exception.

The lepidoptera are out in Saginaw. Butterflies, moths, and, though not Lepidoptera, dragonflies (anisoptera). They are gorgeous out in the field where we walk in the morning. Not thick as in Barbara Kingsolver’s novel. Present. Many on the ground or on tree trunks with wings spread, their bodies warming in the summer sun. I have been seeing them for a week or two. Quietly enjoying them. Thinking Tibe was oblivious to their small bodies. Their delicate wings. Their careful camouflage in the field. Then, this morning, while sniffing the ground, Tibe first came upon a butterfly. It was sitting on the ground. Wings spread. I looked and immediately wanted to move him away. I could not capture his attention quickly enough. I braced myself for the fierce and heavy paw. I expected him to bear down on its delicate body. I steeled myself for him to first nose the creature, then take it in his mouth. Tibe did neither.

He looked in awe at the butterfly. Set his head on the ground six inches away and watched, then stood and walked away. I was astounded. It was, I thought, an aberration. Then, a few minutes later, across the field, we came upon a dragonfly, sunning itself on a tall stalk of grass. Again, Tibe approached, and I waited for him to snap, take it in his mouth, but again, he sat. Mesmerized. He watched. Then in a flash the dragonfly flew away. We walked on. Through the field. We did not see any more lepidoptera, we did not see any more anisoptera.

When we returned to the gravel parking lot, Tibe barked and jumped at the seagull. She squealed and circled around us, safely out of his reach. Tibe reminded me of his craziness, of his desire to take the world in his mouth. He cocked his head as if to say, nothing has changed. I am still crazed Tibe. But for a few brief moments, I saw a curious pup. A gentle pup. An inquisitive pup. A pup at peace in the world. Change happens.