Wednesday, October 14, 2015
You never know what’s going to happen when you're away on vacation. We were walking along a pleasant street, just trying to get a feel for the area, when we came upon two dogs having a great time playing with each other. They seemed to be part of the family that was standing by a car and talking. We moved along not thinking about it until we noticed that one of the dogs was walking alongside us.
“Hey, dog, go home,” we said. He didn’t.
As we walked further he came with us, measuring his pace with ours. We looked back down the street to see where its people were but they were gone. We wondered if this was a stray. His hair was ragged and he looked skinny. His muzzle was gray so we knew he was an older dog. Was he lost? Confused? But what could we do? We were on vacation.
“Go home,” we repeated hoping he had a home.
We tried crossing the street; he followed. We walked slower and let him get ahead of us but he stopped as soon as he realized we were lagging, turned around and waited until we caught up. We asked a man who was walking on the street if he knew whose dog this was. “Isn’t it yours?” he said. “He seems to know you.”
We decided to go back to our hotel and see if they could call someone to come for the dog. We were almost there, passing the place where we first hooked up, when the dog took off and ran across the street. We heard someone yell, “YAY! There you are!” It sounded like our dog had found his family. Was he staying with us because he thought we would lead him back? He didn’t follow us as we reversed our steps and crossed onto the main road again.
We were relieved that he obviously was with his family again. And yet, in a way we had become his family, too. At least for a little while. Our dog added his presence to the stories we would tell when we got back home. Aren’t those stories what connect us with the world?