A change of pace

Early morning and it’s damp and cold. Low, dark clouds are drifting in from the northeast, covering up what there was of the morning sun. The cab in my tuck is still cold. No surprise there, cost way too much to replace the heater, so I deal with it.

Turning a corner I see an old man and his dog walking towards me. He’s stooped over, either from the cold or his age, maybe both. A pull down hat on his head, flannel shirt, jeans, boots. His walk is pretty slow, nearly a shuffle as much as a walk. But he is looking around, smiling.

In one of his hands is a leash, walking along with him is his dog. He looks kind of old himself. A small guy, mostly black, long wispy fur, and there are streaks of grey in his coat. Looking closer I can see the tell tale white around his muzzle. His walk is similar to his masters; it looks like it may be a little painful for him. But he’s there with his friend.

Where are these two headed on a morning like this? Is it just the two of them, or is someone waiting at home for them. I wonder how long they’ve known each other. More than a few years would be my guess. What kind of days have they shared over the years? Some laughs, tears, friends that have come and gone.

What kinds of walks have they taken together in the past? I wonder if they’ve strolled country roads, chased the waves at the beach, trekked through snow and rain. Or have they always been on the streets around here. It doesn’t really matter, as long as you are making the trip with a friend.

I smile and drive on my way. I’m glad they passed by me for a moment. When I get home I’ll give Hobie an extra pat and hug, and share some more time with her.