Twice a day, my doggie and I go for a walk up the street. “Come on, Toby,” I say to him. “Let’s go yell at the neighbours.”
And so we do. He yells at all of them. I yell at only some. He sniffs the daylights out of everything he sees. And then pees on some of it. Trees, bushes, grass. I try to contain myself till we’re home again.
From some of the yelled-at neighbours, Toby gets a treat now and then. I never do. I’ve been in this neighbourhood for 33 years but the jury is still out on me. If I could only be half as cute as my 13-pound poodle, I might get picked up and cuddled now and then too. But I don’t.
Everybody smiles when they see my little runt a-coming, even though they know exactly what they are about to experience. He stands before each of them barking madly, though his tail is wagging up a storm. I tell my neighbours he’s happy, despite appearances. He just has some announcements to make.
Toby has a girlfriend up the street. I am forbidden to have the same. When he sees her on her porch while we are still five houses away, he starts to cry and hauls on his leash like a tug-of-war king. A joyous reunion ensues. I can’t even imagine my reaction if I somehow was in the same position he is. I think he is subdued compared to what I might display.
When we reach the end of the street, we turn around and head straight home. A nice big snack awaits at the end of the walk and Toby gets a few kibbles too.
I have a million important things to think about every day. Toby has only a few. But boy are they important. Precisely at walk time, he finds me and scratches my leg without mercy. I am not left alone until we head out on our mission.
Sometimes, especially in winter, it’s a pain. But when I realize that that little bugger depends on me so much for his social time, it makes me feel good to usually be the one to provide it. The creatures we have brought into our home to share our lives give us 10 dollars of love for every one dollar of care we give them. I am not a very successful investor (though I try), but I like those returns.
A lot.
©2019 Jim Hagarty
