The suffering dog is still crying two hours later, now under brilliant sunshine.  I made my way through the wet leaves to see if he was OK.  “Hey, Hercules, are you OK?” I called and he stopped crying for a moment, turned briefly to regard me with sad, wolfish eyes.  A second later he resumed his post at the gate, mewling with all his heart.

I called the neighbor, Joe, a native Chinese speaker with a working knowledge of English. I introduced myself and told him his dog was in the backyard crying for the last two hours.

“My daughter?” he asked with great concern.

“No, no. Hercules,” I said.

“Ah, he is crying cause I put him in the cage.  I have people coming to the yard.  He doesn’t like to be in the cage, but I had to put him in because I don’t want trouble, you know?  So he’s crying to get out of the cage,” Joe said, then imitated the exact cry of his watchdog.  Then he thanked me several times and told me he’d call his wife, tell her to let the dog out now.

Sekhnet was relieved when I called to give her the news.  The dog is still filling the humid afternoon with his soulful calls.