Menen Finds a Dog

It was not as if I woke up in the morning and planed to have a dog by the end of the day, but that is what happened. When I found him under a picnic table, wearing a broken piece of twine for a collar/leash, he seemed tired. I sat by him for hours waiting for his owner to come back. No one ever did.

Later that night, with full bellies, we fell asleep on my bed. He smelled stinky, left me covered in hair, and kept me awake by hogging the bed and snoring. In the morning we put up posters and registered with the Humane Society. We knocked and knocked on doors, yet no one knew him.

Ultimately, I grew to care for him as much as any other being. He followed me wherever I went and never required a leash. He waited on the sand while I surfed, filling his time with his favorite game: "Bury the Ball, Unbury the Ball". Sometimes he scared me when he tried swimming out to me. I liked seeing his wagging tail when I came into shore.

His nose took us places I would have never found on my own: abandoned buildings and sea creatures washed up on shore. Everyday was an adventure. I learnt it was perfectly acceptable to get dirty, walking in straight lines is insipid, and power naps rule. Mostly though, I learned how to love.

For months an old man watched our ritual of playing and picnicking and napping in the park. One day he approached us and thanked us profusely, "for renewing his hope in humanity. "He said, I have not seen a relationship like yours since I was a young man, and I thought those times were gone . . . ." Frankly, I am not sure I understand everything he said that day, but I am glad we made him smile.

It has been eight months since I saw my dog alive. I miss his wonderful smell and do not sleep so well anymore: the bed is too big and it is so quiet in here.