Walking with my Dogs, Day 1
I take a minute to absorb the view of Spy Pond. It is still, like the surface of a mirror, and in the early morning it promises that the rest of the day will be similar. It is the time of day when the crickets pass their baton of song to the cicadas, and the early birds call out to see if their friends are awake. Out on the lake, close to the opposite shore, a bevy of swans swim in loose formation, their necks and bills buried in their feathers for warmth. I hear a grunt behind me.
“Would you look at that? Swimming chickens. I suppose they’re forced to go out there so I can’t catch them.”
Archie sits his haunches next to me and stares out as well. His still eyes and triangular ears zero in on the faraway waterfowl, but his posture remains relaxed. The birds would have to reckon with him another day.
“I dunno, they’re so big! I’m sure they can lift us off the ground. Maybe they can be our friends,” says another voice behind me.
Balto brushes my leg on my other side. His tongue lolls as he beams a smile that never leaves his tousled face.
“Nonsense,” says Archie. “Humans are our only friends, and even they are absolutely worthless most of the time. A good human is worth more than you think.”
“All I’m saying is that it doesn’t hurt to find out. I’m sure swans are super cool.” Balto pants his excitement, and looks up at me. I shrug and scratch his head between his ears, while Archie snorts to communicate his opinion on the matter.
“Let’s go,” I encourage. “There’s a dog park nearby that I’ve been wanting to show the two of you.”
Balto gasps, and Archie freezes, before Balto scrambles away in a flurry of grass and leaves in the wrong direction. Archie and I turn to walk towards the park, and after a few moments Balto gallops back to us, grinning sheepishly. A squirrel betrays its position from somewhere in the foliage, and before we know it the younger dog is gone again.
“So you live here now?” asks Archie as we get on the bike path. Occasionally the odd exercise enthusiast passes us, but the time of day is still too early for it to be crowded.
“Yeah, moved here a few months ago.”
“And how’ve you found it?”
“Super. More than super, in fact. I don’t think I could have chosen a better place to go through this pandemic. You know what’s going on right now, don’t you?”
“Yeah, humans are being forced to stay in the house to protect themselves from disease. Working from home, whatever that means. It’s a shame it couldn’t happen before we had to leave, right?”
“It’s a damn shame,” I say. “You two would have loved it, both here or back in the Dominican Republic. I’ve…I’ve missed you a lot.”
“We’ve missed you too!” Balto emerges from the tall grass. “But we’re here now. The tree mice are really cool.”
I laugh as the bike path opens up to a field. The dogs slow down to take it all in, until they go off together to smell the scents of all the dogs that have passed by before — or since — them. I continue walking, thinking about all the times I wished I could make this same walk together. It would be the heaven of heavens.
The dog park approaches, and I whistle a quick, sharp note while opening the gate. Balto thunders through, his tail almost propelling him through the air like a Spitfire. Archie trots after him, the picture of poise. The bike path may not be very crowded, but this early hour is a great time for dogs to get rid of their first zooms before it gets too hot. Balto chases after a group of playmates already running laps around the park. Archie continues investigating the area, giving passing dogs a perfunctory sniff as if to say “How do you do?”
I sit on a tree root outside the park as I watch them all, a familiar walnut forming in my throat. It’s great that they could be here today. I wish they could be here every day.
The sun continues to climb, and eventually the two dogs are laying next to my feet, stomachs up, panting. How fortunate am I, to have the two best bellies within scratching distance? Very fortunate, I decide, as I get to work, provoking kicks and stretches from each of them. The swans from Spy Pond fly overhead, away from me, but leaving me with two of my favorite souls. Very fortunate indeed.