Destiny's Dog
Today something happened that reminded me of the word destiny. I passed a restaurant around three o’clock, not really hungry, but thirsting a beer. Although I should not be drinking alcohol due to training, the sun was beating hard on my head and nothing appealed to me except…alcohol. To my dismay, a sign was blarring in my face that yelled, “NO OUTSIDE FOOD AND NO PETS.” Great…. But for some reason Chandi always helps me break the rules, and it did. As soon as I sat down, Chandi was going a little crazy trying to find food scrapes and/or crap to eat, smell, and lick. I guess this “odd” dog like behavior caught the attention of a pair of dog lovers. The woman, with a thick Southern accent, said, “Aww, what a cute dog. It’s a Jack Russell right?” “Yeah,” I said trying to pull Chandi back to the table and smiling. Beads of sweat started to form on near the brow.
“Oh, we have two dogs at home and are missing them so much,” the lady said.
“Very cool. What type?”
“Two pure breed labs. We got them at a local animal shelter.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, and we are missing them so much right now.”
“Oh, I can imagine!”
Chandi kept doing her dog thing and the man broke a smile.
“Dogs are the best companions, aren’t they?” she asked.
“Oh yes. I love it. I get to sleep with a living toy.”
“Yeah, my husband made them a dog house and they stay in there. However, I am sure they have torn everything in the house!”
“I totally understand. Chandi has bad separation anxiety as well. That is part of the reason she is here.”
The man stared at Chandi a little longer.
“Your dog is mighty cute,” he said.
“Thank you. But, she is quite a handful. How old are your dogs?”
“Oh, they are nine years old,” he said, quite proudly. “They have such character and personality.”
“I know. I never imagined that an animal would have these human type of qualities.”
“Yeah. And ours are siblings.”
The woman interrupted, “We would never get anything but siblings. They keep each other company. I bet she thinks of you as a sister or something.”
Laughter filled the air.
We finished up the conversation after asking them where they were from. They ordered food and it arrived a few minutes later. Fries and beer came and heat rays were still pounding on my head. The man got up from his table and the woman started up the conversation again.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you but I just wanted to say thank you. This is the first time my husband has talked freely in the past week. My son died a week ago,” she sat still sucking on her cigarette.
“No worries. I’m sorry to hear of your loss.” I never know what to say. I don’t think my words would do much.
“I know. It is sad. He was only 20,” she said with a shaky voice.
“Oh wow. I’m sorry.” Again, uncomfortable with words, my only tool I know how to use properly.
She went on to share the story of her son’s death. “But, I just wanted to say thank you. I have never heard him talk as much as he did right now. Honestly, it was so good to hear him speak. Thank you and your dog.”
We spoke for a few more minutes and then her husband came back. Before they left, I kept thinking destiny. There were other people there with their dogs, but this dog inspired the husband to speak. He said words not relating to his son’s death. He laughed (a little), smiled, and shared his stories to strangers. I will never forget that couple, not because of the death, but due to a moment in time we shared. It was destiny. It was fate.
Oh, and thank you Chandi.
“Oh, we have two dogs at home and are missing them so much,” the lady said.
“Very cool. What type?”
“Two pure breed labs. We got them at a local animal shelter.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, and we are missing them so much right now.”
“Oh, I can imagine!”
Chandi kept doing her dog thing and the man broke a smile.
“Dogs are the best companions, aren’t they?” she asked.
“Oh yes. I love it. I get to sleep with a living toy.”
“Yeah, my husband made them a dog house and they stay in there. However, I am sure they have torn everything in the house!”
“I totally understand. Chandi has bad separation anxiety as well. That is part of the reason she is here.”
The man stared at Chandi a little longer.
“Your dog is mighty cute,” he said.
“Thank you. But, she is quite a handful. How old are your dogs?”
“Oh, they are nine years old,” he said, quite proudly. “They have such character and personality.”
“I know. I never imagined that an animal would have these human type of qualities.”
“Yeah. And ours are siblings.”
The woman interrupted, “We would never get anything but siblings. They keep each other company. I bet she thinks of you as a sister or something.”
Laughter filled the air.
We finished up the conversation after asking them where they were from. They ordered food and it arrived a few minutes later. Fries and beer came and heat rays were still pounding on my head. The man got up from his table and the woman started up the conversation again.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you but I just wanted to say thank you. This is the first time my husband has talked freely in the past week. My son died a week ago,” she sat still sucking on her cigarette.
“No worries. I’m sorry to hear of your loss.” I never know what to say. I don’t think my words would do much.
“I know. It is sad. He was only 20,” she said with a shaky voice.
“Oh wow. I’m sorry.” Again, uncomfortable with words, my only tool I know how to use properly.
She went on to share the story of her son’s death. “But, I just wanted to say thank you. I have never heard him talk as much as he did right now. Honestly, it was so good to hear him speak. Thank you and your dog.”
We spoke for a few more minutes and then her husband came back. Before they left, I kept thinking destiny. There were other people there with their dogs, but this dog inspired the husband to speak. He said words not relating to his son’s death. He laughed (a little), smiled, and shared his stories to strangers. I will never forget that couple, not because of the death, but due to a moment in time we shared. It was destiny. It was fate.
Oh, and thank you Chandi.
posted by Chai at 6:03 PM
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