A neighbour from across the way walked by as I stood in the driveway with the leaf blower.
‘Hi, Brooke,’ he said with a gentle smile. He was out for a walk with the family dog, a beautiful old Labrador, who I know has been quite unwell of late.
‘Oh, hello,’ I said back, with a smile in return. ‘What brings you to this neck of the woods?’ I asked, knowing the journey between our two homes was at least a couple of blocks away. He looked down at the dog.
‘I just let him walk me, these days. I don’t even have him on a lead. He used to run as soon as I let him loose. Now, he just wanders along, and I let him.’
My heart did that thing a heart does when it knows it’s witnessed something precious. The dog, his belly still shaved from surgery a couple of weeks before, just stood at our feet. Panting. Being. Watching life go by as the two of us talked about the adventures he once had as a young pup. Long ago adventures, memories, wonderful and sweet for his loving family.
I couldn’t help but think how beautiful it was that my neighbour had gifted his dog the freedom to explore the world at his leisure. It seemed ever more sweet when I looked down to see the dog’s heaving chest, knowing that this world likely wouldn’t be his to enjoy for much longer.
We want so many things, us humans. To go where we want, when we want, is usually one of the things we hold high upon the list. My neighbour had chosen to let the dog own his own time and make his own choices.
I still sit with that beauty lighting my heart, and I doubt I’ll ever forget that dog.
Or the lessons he and my neighbour unknowingly taught me about love.