Chapter Eight: Muddy Paw Prints on My Heart
I walked up to my car, my dog-shaped shadow hobbling along behind me, and I smiled brightly. It was almost as bright as the golden ring on my left hand. Unlocking my car door, the familiar shine catching my eye, also catching my breath. House wanted me to be his husband, something I thought he would never have the guts, or the heart, to commit to. But Greg was full of body parts, all of which will be never forgotten.
I opened the door and before I could unlock the passenger seat, my new friend lunged forward and bounded into the passenger seat. I felt my brown eyes widen to the size of copper coins, and my plans for laying down a towel on the seat evaporate. I had one in the trunk, because as always, when things go wrong I try to be ready. But the way the dog was panting, excuse me smiling, in the seat couldn't be more right.
I saw my leather seats imprinted with muddy paw prints, and it reminded me of when Greg would get food crumbs or grease on my car. Nothing mattered…I had baby wipes in my glove box. Sitting in the driver's seat I leaned across my seat to open up the compartment, and the dog watched my every move, as if I was something he had to figure out. I glanced at him, loosened my body language knowing that dog's feed off their surroundings, and pulled out three sanitizer wipes.
When I started to wipe up the mess, the Husky started to pant again, and I just shook my head. He also liked seeing me clean up after him. Oh get a hold of yourself James. Listen to your thoughts. This dog is not Greg. Nowhere close. It is just a homeless dog, which happens to have similar characteristics to your lost finance. I put the baby wipes in my pocket and started the car, the sound that normally wakes me up out of my fantasy. This time it didn't.
The radio was playing a song that normally makes me tap my fingers on my steering wheel, Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head, a strangely bittersweet, freeing song. Before I could start humming along with it, I haven't sung along since he died--the dog leaned forward and pushed the radio with his nose. I couldn't believe it; he just changed the radio station. The new song was Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In, a bright song that always puts an embarrassed smile on my face. I had reached a stop sign, so I turned and gawked at the canine, who just grinned back.
I shook my head, pulled forward onto a main road, and just set my mouth in a firm, confused line. This is only a dog, an animal that has been a companion to man for as long as man has had speech. Dogs are intelligent, but not quite smart enough to know that a song isn't good for a person's self esteem. Or even recognize songs for that matter. One side of my mouth curled up in amusement. Still not boring.
I drove to a little pet store, where my radio DJ started to hide his face from view, as if anti-social or shy. I pulled into a parking spot, turned off my car, unclicked my seat belt, and turned to the blue-eyed beauty next to me. "Now listen here buddy. I can tell you really don't want to go in there, and that is fine. I know where everything is in the store, and I can be back in twelve minutes maximum. You can stay here. Don't worry, I won't abandon you."
"Greg" looked at me with blue eyes that couldn't be mapped by the best oceanographers, and then glanced out the window. I smiled weakly, hating leaving him behind, and got out of my car. I locked it up and gave the dog one last look before turning and going inside.
*****Do you guys think a Husky, like the one I described, looks like House? I am not saying that they could pass for twins, but do you see the similarities? Please reply if you think so…I appreciate it.*****
I came back outside with a cart full of first pet supplies. A blue collar without tags, leash, two bags of food, a water and a food dish, a bag of rawhide bones for him to chew up, a bed, some pet shampoo and combs, and some tick medicine.
When I unlocked my car, I saw him shoot up from his curled up position on the passenger seat and start barking as if alarmed. I opened the back seat and placed most of the items on the soft, black leather. The other, bulkier items got put in the trunk. Climbing in the driver's seat, I turned to my frightened friend.
"It's okay, pal. It's okay. It's only me---Jimmy. I didn't mean to scare you. I should have unlocked in manually…I'm sorry. That is not what I meant to do. The dog snarled at me for a split second as if he didn't like me on his new territory. He soon relaxed when he saw my palms facing up and lower than his face.
"I told you I would be back and I promise to never do that to you again okay? I didn't have a leash so I couldn't take you inside. I am sorry." Greg exhaled, as if catching his breath, and looked at me relieved and wiped out. He licked my hand. Once. And then curled back up and went back to sleep. Well, there is one thing he does do that Gregory never did. Snore.