It’s otherwise quiet this Friday afternoon as the neighborhood wolf howls its baleful howl up the block and there’s finally that moment where you can exhale and think a minute. Think about that big dogfight up here on the Big Mesa in wild and off-leash Bolinas. The big dogfight where you jumped in to try and keep your little guy from getting his head ripped off by a dog at least ten times his size and weight.

Scary stuff. And it only strikes a humor chord in the after-action report, once the bullet has been dodged more or less officially and you are counting the could-have-been-a-lot-worse blessings.

Oh, it was big news in tiny Bolinas, and you should have seen it. The male in my pair of Mexican hairless dogs, Telly Boy, got himself into a serious scrap the other night with one of the neighbors’ dogs.

It was quite a battle: A hairless and exotic nine-pound juggernaut of Joe Pesci fury versus a humongous and hairy behemoth with murder and menace in his eyes.

I’d like to say I was proud of my little guy for standing up to the big dog, but this is not time for that. It is rather a time for reflection. What can the dog teach the human when he is so tough that he would rather die than back down?

When the dust settled, Telly had a ruptured muscle in his ribcage, and these last few days have been a stressful whirlwind of vets, x-rays, vets bills, more x-rays and consults and the prospect of even more vets bills—and that awful question that any pet owner faces about their love for their animal versus their love for not having to pay a $5,000 surgical bill.

So, for a few days this week it was wait and see, wait and see, wait and see. The vet wrapped Telly up in a compression gauze with the news that it might come to surgery if the hole didn’t close up.

Dogs are quick healers, if you give them the chance. On Tuesday, I could sit and watch the air escape Telly’s lungs and puff his skin out—easy to see since he’s a hairless. By Thursday, the vet said the latest x-ray looked excellent—and I’ve locked him down a few days just to make sure there’s no decompensation.

Funny thing, just as I was going over this posting, I heard this crazy howling come from the crate. What’s up Telly Boy?

He’s not crying out in pain but in that dog anguish that says, “Let me run free, man!” Gonna be a little while, little brother, and don’t start thinking that you’re one of them wolves in the meantime.

Our regular walk takes us right by the house of the howling wolf. I’ve only seen the animal once, and it is a beautiful animal indeed, but he does let loose with his howl a few times a day and, if it’s at night, sometimes the coyotes chime in with that Theremin spook-yap of theirs.

The story goes that there used to be two wolves up on the Big Mesa, but one broke loose a couple years ago and tried to kill a calf at the nearby cattle ranch. Mama cow took umbrage and killed the wolf.

Which is to say: This is no place for wimpy animals, and Telly Boy is not a wimpy animal.

But he is a small animal, who, like his attacker, is romping around town fully intact, with a pair of outsized, swinging balls.

Telly Boy is not “broken,” and I have not “fixed” him, at least not yet. There is always this question about men, their dogs, and their dogs’ balls. There’s that man-dog reluctance to go in there and “fix” something that isn’t broken. If you don’t have the nuts yourself, you can’t possibly understand this dynamic and reluctance. And I know I’m not the first guy to have nut-snip reservations.

The neighbor’s been on the fence, too, but says the lesson for him is: Time to get the big dog’s nuts removed.

You first.

• James David Christie at SSU’s Brombaugh Opus 9 organ

The most fascinating aspect of the Green Music Center’s Schroeder Hall isn’t the building itself—it’s not even the incredible Brombaugh Opus 9 organ housed above the stage—it’s the way the two came together.

The 250-seat hall opening this weekend at Sonoma State University is designed for students. It serves doubly as a lecture space and a recital hall, with permanent wooden chairs and desktops that fold onto one’s lap from the side of the seat. But as much attention was paid to the acoustics of the space as the main hall, which has hosted internationally known superstars like Tony Bennett, Yo-Yo Ma and Allison Krauss.

During construction of Schroeder Hall, the university had a chance to purchase the Brombaugh organ, which Oberlin College music professor and organist James David Christie calls an “absolute masterpiece.” Since the purchase was made during the design phase, the hall was actually acoustically tailored to fit this one instrument. When Christie played a piece he wrote for his sister’s wedding at a media preview earlier this week, the marriage of the instrument and it’s new home proved to be a perfect union, indeed.

Christie says he chose the piece specifically because it showed off the full range of the instrument, which rang true. In Schroeder Hall, the low pedal bass of the organ was powerful but not overly so, and the midrange was present but not piercing. The highs were mellow, and the sound was crisp and clear through the nearly five-second reverberation of the stone, oval building. All frequencies are even and the timbre is unique and pleasing. “When playing this organ one immediately feels at one with the room,” Christie said after his performance.

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• Keys to the kingdom

The Opus 9 tracker organ was designed and built by legendary American organ builder John Brombaugh as the ninth in a set of 66 instruments. The 1,248-pipe beauty was originally built in 1972 for a Baptist church in Toledo, Ohio. And holy Toledo, does it sound better in Schroeder Hall. “It sounds 100 percent better in this hall than the church it was in,” says Christie. “It was a great organ transplant.” It’s designed to sound closer to a 16th Century Renaissance organ, where as most made today aim more for a Baroque-era timbre. The result is a fatter sound with a less percussive effect.

What’s unique about this instrument is the attention to detail. It sits above the stage in the choir loft, with the audience facing it, and the visible pipes are hand-hammered. This is not common on organs because A) it’s difficult to do without destroying the sound; and B) it’s quite time consuming and only done for aesthetics. The result is absolute beauty for the eyes and ears. The completed project is the only one I’ve seen that looks like it jumped off the page of an architect’s rendering.

The organ was bought in 2005 through a gift from BJ and Bebe Cassin, Sonoma Bach Choir director Bob Worth and Margaret McCarthy, as well as Green Music Center namesakes Don and Maureen Green. It was housed in a Rochestor, NY church until its installation at SSU this year. While in New York, the organ was reportedly a favorite of music professors at the nearby Eastman School of Music.

The hall, named after the Beethoven-loving Peanuts character at the suggestion of major donor and Peanuts creator Charles Schulz’s wife, Jeanne, hosts a series of free opening-weekend concerts this weekend. See http://gmc.sonoma.edu for details.

• View of the hall from the choir balcony