Isn’t it what we all need? Connection. And someone to follow behind sometimes.
It’s Friday night and we’re walking through the Boston Common. My friend and I pass by a small film crew with their cameras setting up along the edge of a mostly drained frog pond and we both wonder aloud what might be going on. Lights from the long finished holiday season still adorn some of the trees. We walk behind people strolling hand-in-hand and pass by people sitting on park benches. I’m carrying my sweatshirt jacket draped over one arm and walking in open-toed sandals.
“Hey, look at the moon,” I say, pointing.
My friend turns around to look up at the full moon peeking out from behind clouds, seemingly wedged between two small city skyscrapers. Even a mere slice off the top lights up this entire—and rare for early March— 70-degree night.
Earlier in the day, my spouse Janyce and I met the dog trainer outside in the front yard. Our trainer brought her dog along with her for this session, just to see if maybe a canine buddy would inspire some confidence in our fearful dog. The little pack of us— golden retriever leading the way, followed by trainer, then our rescue dog with Janyce right behind, holding the leather leash wrapped around her wrist a few times, and me, last in line, sweating and squinting into the direct rays of the midday sun— all ventured out onto the sidewalk at the end of our long driveway. Our goal was a short walk along the death-defying main thoroughfare that is the sidewalk adjacent to our busy main street.
Two school buses, one directly after the other, barreled by with kids yelling out the open windows. Motorcyclists jubilantly revved past. Truck after truck after bigger and bigger truck, all whizzed past us with a deafening sound and that warm-weather day speed. It was frightening. But we all did it. Our rescue dog alternated between keeping her nose to the ground and her eyes on her new buddy. When the other dog stopped to pee, she did the same. When the other dog scratched up the leaves on the side of the road, she scratched up the leaves on the side of the road. They sniffed, they trotted, they ignored the traffic. They made it up and back, then delighted in a shared water bowl on the front lawn and some running play in the back yard.
“I can’t stand it,” said Janyce, as the trainer’s car was pulling out of our driveway. “She just needs a buddy!”
“That couldn’t have gone any better,” I said.
My dad sent me a rare text recently. He’s not one for paragraph style texting exchanges. Not one for talking much in general, usually.
“What’s my favorite daughter doing?” he said. “Missing my favorite father,” I said. “Jump on a plane!” he said. “I have a special needs dog now :( ” I said. “How’s she doing?” he said. “Getting there. Janyce is good at the training. But the dog is afraid of the deer in the backyard. She practically slept on our heads the other night,” I said. “Just what you needed,” he said.
And I knew what he meant, that maybe it’s all just too much right now, but…
Is it though? Isn’t it what we all need? Connection. And someone to follow behind sometimes. Someone to meet for dinner, in the city, after driving for over an hour. Someone to remind us that we can get through the low times, that we can get our confidence back if we’ve lost it, get our joy back if we can’t remember where it went or why it’s gone.
It’s past 7pm now and my friend and I have been walking since our dinner in the Seaport, slowly making our way back to the Prudential center where I left my car in the underground parking lot. My friend is several steps ahead of me, skipping through the electrified arbor that is the center mall of Commonwealth Avenue. We’ve pretty much talked through all subjects— got caught up on our families, our jobs, her grad school, my rescue dog, our delayed vacations and altered life plans, the state of the world and the people we keep losing, and the virus that both of us worry may be on its raging way back again for another round of one- two punches.
But now (deep breath) we’ve said pretty much everything there is to say, and we can simply be quiet and enjoy looking around the city, walking along in the warm night air, buddy-system style.
This piece is one of my favorites! I pictured every step of your walk with your friend and with the dogs. I miss you!