Walking the Dogs

So, in the course of doggie events, it became necessary to walk the dogs. And it became anecdotally evident to me that the very act was conducive to human interaction and just had to make the world a better place.

In what became a two hour walk, we strolled through Central Park, and two small children came running over to the dogs and stopped about five feet away, pondering the possibilities. I got down on my knee and beckoned to them. Their parents sat at a picnic table about twenty feet yonder, watching. 

The little one, who was about two years old reached out and touched Gypsy, then reeled back, squealing with delight. Gypsy was nonplussed. The older one, I'd gauge him to be about four, sidled closer, but didn't touch. 

Then little droolie (the small child) again reached out to Gypsy, who stepped towards him to sniff the purple juice leaking from his tiny lips. He again convulsed with delight and the giggles bubbled out of him. 

I asked his older brother if he wanted to pet Nikki, who was bored and aloof, looking for all the world like an old man who wanted nothing more than a nap. He explained to me that he didn't have a dog, but tomorrow was going to get a fish. He held out his hand and Nikki gave it a non-committal sniff.

"Someday maybe you'll get a dog, huh?" I asked him. He smiled and nodded.

The little one, in the mean time, was dodging around Gypsy as if he were trying to plan his next foray into her fur. She watched him and wondered if his fingers were also lined with that sweet smelling sauce. 

The kids' mom, who had maintained her distance, came over with her camera and got down about five feet away. "Carlos...Carlos" she called to the little one. And then something in Spanish which I didn't understand but apparently meant, "Look this way, Kid, I want to take your picture." He gleefully laughed and ruffled Gypsy's mohawk. She took several pictures, which assume were blurry, but will serve as proof of the encounter none the less. Then she sat back on her heels and grinned at me. 

I grinned back. The dogs panted and the kids smiled at the dogs. 

A small bridge was built today between my neighbors and me through our dogs. We don't know each other, we don't live within blocks, we don't even speak the same language. But we know that when a two year old giggles, it's time to pay attention. 

And THAT is what a dog walk is about.

The End.