Legend of the Black Dog
A Legend from Our Native Past for These Times:
The Beginning is Near
Once upon a time an Old Woman worked tirelessly on the World’s Shawl, cutting quills with her flattened teeth through the aeons of Time. Some say She was our Grandmother’s Grandmother’s Grangmother, but no one really knew for sure because she always just WAS. There was no time when She did not exist. Some say that Her many wrinkles resembled the rocks, and others say she emerged from the rocks themselves where she lived in a cave, high on a mountain, which had seen many ages come and go.
Day in and day out The Great Mother wore a smooth path from the mouth of Her cave to its hidden recesses, where there was a high opening to the sky above. There She tended the fire under a great iron pot which fed the world twice a day – once with the sun overhead and once with the moon and stars wheeling by – in all seasons and in all weather.
Some say it was a dark day when a large Black Dog happened to be passing through this valley where the Shawl spilled out of Her cave onto the floor below. Never seen before or since, the Black Dog did the unthinkable when he spied the Shawl.
Now this was no ordinary black dog. Although he was dogged, he was also part Wolf, filled with cunning, and a third part Coyote, filled with mischief. The river of Shawl tantalized him to trot from crevice to crevice, up the steep mountain slope to the mouth of the cave.
It was on one of The Great Mother’s turns to tend the fire in the back that the Black Dog arrived and peered in at the mound of Her finished and unfinished work. His eyes immediately caught sight of her glittering tools on the floor and so he trotted in to take a closer look. When he bent his head to sniff her work, he detected the exact spot where Her Shawl emerged from raw fiber to create the river of Shawl.
Without a second thought, he curled his teeth around the end of the Shawl where She had left off, and tugged and tugged, thrashing about, until it lay completely unraveled on the darkened floor. But The Black Dog did not stop there. No. He raced down the mountainside, trailing her unraveling Shawl behind him until it was no more.
The Great Mother’s steps were muffled upon her return to the mountain of unraveled Shawl, now filling Her cave. She stopped short and drew in her breath, only to pause in the act of breathing and in the beating of Her heart. In that instant, in the ringing Silence between Worlds, the place and time were no more.
PAUSE
What the Great Mother did then was let out her breath, whistling a gale wind through her teeth. She then stooped to gather up her tools to begin anew a very different and elegant pattern of weave. She worked day and night, night and day. Her hands trembled with promise and deliberate quick unceasing movements. For seven days and seven nights She did not stop to rest or even feed the world.
Never seen before or tried before, the emerging Shawl was of a more wondrous design than anything ever seen in any time or place on this Earth. It was resplendent with a myriad of colors, hues and textures, just beyond those seen and felt in this realm. It was easily becoming the most astonishing co-creation on this Earth. And Her work was done. With this She closed her eyes and fell into the great cosmic ocean to sleep.
When She opened her eyes on the Other Side She called the Black Dog to Her and whispered in the sudden stillness of Creation, “Thank you, Black Dog”.
The Beginning is Near
Once upon a time an Old Woman worked tirelessly on the World’s Shawl, cutting quills with her flattened teeth through the aeons of Time. Some say She was our Grandmother’s Grandmother’s Grangmother, but no one really knew for sure because she always just WAS. There was no time when She did not exist. Some say that Her many wrinkles resembled the rocks, and others say she emerged from the rocks themselves where she lived in a cave, high on a mountain, which had seen many ages come and go.
Day in and day out The Great Mother wore a smooth path from the mouth of Her cave to its hidden recesses, where there was a high opening to the sky above. There She tended the fire under a great iron pot which fed the world twice a day – once with the sun overhead and once with the moon and stars wheeling by – in all seasons and in all weather.
Some say it was a dark day when a large Black Dog happened to be passing through this valley where the Shawl spilled out of Her cave onto the floor below. Never seen before or since, the Black Dog did the unthinkable when he spied the Shawl.
Now this was no ordinary black dog. Although he was dogged, he was also part Wolf, filled with cunning, and a third part Coyote, filled with mischief. The river of Shawl tantalized him to trot from crevice to crevice, up the steep mountain slope to the mouth of the cave.
It was on one of The Great Mother’s turns to tend the fire in the back that the Black Dog arrived and peered in at the mound of Her finished and unfinished work. His eyes immediately caught sight of her glittering tools on the floor and so he trotted in to take a closer look. When he bent his head to sniff her work, he detected the exact spot where Her Shawl emerged from raw fiber to create the river of Shawl.
Without a second thought, he curled his teeth around the end of the Shawl where She had left off, and tugged and tugged, thrashing about, until it lay completely unraveled on the darkened floor. But The Black Dog did not stop there. No. He raced down the mountainside, trailing her unraveling Shawl behind him until it was no more.
The Great Mother’s steps were muffled upon her return to the mountain of unraveled Shawl, now filling Her cave. She stopped short and drew in her breath, only to pause in the act of breathing and in the beating of Her heart. In that instant, in the ringing Silence between Worlds, the place and time were no more.
PAUSE
What the Great Mother did then was let out her breath, whistling a gale wind through her teeth. She then stooped to gather up her tools to begin anew a very different and elegant pattern of weave. She worked day and night, night and day. Her hands trembled with promise and deliberate quick unceasing movements. For seven days and seven nights She did not stop to rest or even feed the world.
Never seen before or tried before, the emerging Shawl was of a more wondrous design than anything ever seen in any time or place on this Earth. It was resplendent with a myriad of colors, hues and textures, just beyond those seen and felt in this realm. It was easily becoming the most astonishing co-creation on this Earth. And Her work was done. With this She closed her eyes and fell into the great cosmic ocean to sleep.
When She opened her eyes on the Other Side She called the Black Dog to Her and whispered in the sudden stillness of Creation, “Thank you, Black Dog”.