Wandering
It remains the biggest bonding endeavor my dog and I share. Wandering. As his arthritis progresses, it’s hitting me more and more just how much our wandering has been impacted. He does well for his age, now 9. And a dog with an impinged nerve, and arthritis.
After church at Missiongathering, food for my soul, where I had wheeled to this morning with Borias. We went up to the Farmer’s Market, to get African food from a vendor I like there. He makes really good food. Of course, he noticed Borias’ new collar, made by the Masai in Kenya. He asks me “what do you know of the Masai?” incredulously. I tell him I have a large affinity for Africa.
Then, due to budget cuts in the city bus system, the route going down my main street wasn’t running, as I find out after a few beers at Gossip Grill. So me and Bo head on the University St. route, and walked home through the hood. Well, sort of. Depends on how one looks at it. Let’s say the more ungentrified area.
We passed by a house where a Bassett Hound came running out, obviously overjoyed to see someone to pay attention to him. He whined and wiggled….then suddenly he stiffened, and seemed to realize that he should be doing his “duty” and protect his property, and began baying. I laughed out loud, and Borias gave me a bemused look. Good dog.
Then it was a stop at “our” Starbucks, for the near daily latte. I’m an addict. I admit it. Borias even knows what Starbucks is. I say it as we pass by, and he goes directly to their door ha ha. He also knows that’s where he can get a refreshment of water. “Starbucks water” I call it. I think he thinks it’s special, because he will refuse to drink water from other establishments sometimes. But he’ll drink that water.
I enjoy chatting with the baristas there. Giving them a little Reader’s Digest version of your day. I mentioned escaping two psycho kitties with Borias today, and the gal there really related. Wasn’t a huge fan of cats, which isn’t me, but I have noticed a distinct difference between outdoor cats and the genteel indoor variety. Territory. Invade it, and many the outside cat will risk life and limb to try and kick my dog’s ass. It doesn’t help that he puts off the “bring it on” vibe, I’m sure. Glad I carry Direct Stop!
Then we were almost home, when a guy passes me, who appeared to be perhaps homeless, or close. He said he was sorry for what happened to me. Meaning how my house was broken into, and my livelihood taken from me. Said that they were scum, who did that to me. I thanked him. How cool…not sure how he knew of my circumstance. Guess it doesn’t matter. It gave me another boost towards seeing my fellow humans out on the streets here as my brothers and sisters. There are angels among us. We just need to be open to seeing them.
Borias is an angel for me. A guardian angel, if you will. I know it means a lot to him to keep up with me, so I do everything I can to keep that possible. Even if I have to go without, he gets treated for his condition, to keep him at his best. Things have been on the downswing lately, though I’m hoping it’s just a temporary thing. Some tendon soreness perhaps. Borias seems to think it’s in his job description to run off pigeons, and it’s something that I’ve long figured out how to manipulate. Work with it rather than against it, in other words. Now, that enables me to allow one or two charges at a flock in “our way”, and then thank him and say that was enough. That, rather than constantly squealching his impulse to make those vermin flee from our presence.
I do hope that we can continue our wandering for a few more years, at least. One can learn a lot by wandering with a dog.
