For some reason I knew I had to take Honey for a long walk this morning. It wasn't really evident until that moment it was revealed. But I knew. I awoke much earlier than normal, and tried to stir Honey into going. Like usual, on these hotter than usual mornings, she was belligerent! However, I got her up and we started on our trek. We took the usual path, which outside, was cooler than many other of the mornings that I had gone. This was because of the sun, had still not risen over the hills behind the city. As we reached the seafront the sun had made a bright orangey red disk, semi-circular on the horizon line of the city's lower hills. It was a beautiful colour. The type of moment that is really worth waking for. It patched some buildings with red, and reflected itself on water and window alike.
By the time we made it to the monstrous music building, the sun still hadn't cast even a single shadow yet. The water on the sea was an undulating glass; smooth but in a constant flux as a gentle tide moved it inwards and again outward. August is summer at its height in Greece. And the first two weeks in August are holiday time. The city becomes almost a ghost town. Surprisingly there are still folk running, walking, cycling on the seafront at this time, but fewer. Even more so, there are fewer dogs to encounter. A reason to take Honey for long walks, is to get her aquatinted with other canines, and become a little more social. It works to a degree, but at most the receiving dog's behaviour is wholly dependant on its owner. Many stop and say 'good morning' and let the dogs do their typical greeting, or smelling each other. However, some are just ignorant and fear the worst of such encounters. Then I came to the fork in the path, where the bike lane connects. On rare occasions on returning home I have seen a rat scampering across the path, to seek shelter in one of the tree fixtures the seafront has. This day, I caught it as I joined the corner and it held its ground in the middle of the path. Sniffy the air, and then walking slowly to its rest, under the tree. Early mornings bring these moments of wonder, and regardless of how life is during the day, it seems to have a touch of magic to it, rather than normal life just passing.
Due to the glassiness of the water, my mind thought of what one old man had conversed about, the last time I saw him. He always sits on the seafront at a particular point, at around 7.10am with his 17 year old dog (Papoutha). He told me he that he had seen a seal bobbing in and out of the water in front of him, that day. So I was scanning the top of the thermikos, to see if I could catch sight of one. No luck, so I continued on my way. On our walks, I spend a lot of time talking to Honey. I think she ignores me, as she darts from tree to tree, rubbish to post, smelling what could be smelt. However, I talk, hoping she understands. And so we got to the bench where the old man sits, and he was not there this day. I was early I thought, so I continued on my way, an did my typical circle, to come back to the water garden. Stopping at one moment to give some time to a street dog. A young puppy Doberman. She is typically scared, so this time I stooped down and simply waited for her to come and smell me. It was a good exchange, but she still had that fear in her eye that all young street dogs have; it's that bare survival look.
She however, followed Honey and me to the water park, where I pointed out fish to Honey and the big rooks, whom seemed intent to thieve some of these fish from the pond. As I reached the grassy area, we cut across, Honey and I, to join the seafront path again. This is the point where the old man sits, and as his position came into view I could see him sitting there. He was alone. After unwrapping Honey from around a tree, I approached him and asked what had happened. With a sad drawn face, he told me Papoutha had passed away the day before. I find it hard to say anything in these moments, even in my native tongue, but I felt an urge to sit with the old man. I didn't know his name, but I had spent many a morning talking and stroking his ageing dog. He would sit there, and give the dog the kind of attention close relationships are paid with. Dipping his hand into his treat filled pocket, and offering one to his companion. It was an inevitable shock to me. I talked for some time with him, and said all those things that people say. Honey was doing her usual distance thing, as the young street dog was hovering, but then she seemed to do a remarkable thing. She tends to shy away from people, and even growl under her breath when they stroke her head, but today. Today, she jumped on the bench and moved to the old man, and let him stroke her for some time. She didn't move away like usual. It was like she felt his pain, and maybe even realised his dog was not there this day.
I didn't feel like leaving him, but I did, and felt a lump in my throat all the way home. The only thing I said to Honey after that was, "Papoutha is dead, sweety!" I've had pets a lot of my life, and different ones at that. Only as a small boy did my family have a dog, Sandy. I don't remember her well, but I do remember her. Now I have Honey things feel a lot different in my life. It's not like all day, every day, is a great ball of fun. It's like any responsibility. There are days of worry, anxiety and fear, but these are countered most of the time, if not more, with those moments that make having a dog, simply about being an extension of you. She looks into my eyes, and we communicate, she licks my face and I just accept it. She sits and begs for scraps off my plate. Joins me in bed, follows me everywhere, and everything that makes her a whole part of my life. The old man and myself both agreed today, that life wouldn't be he same without a dog in it. It's like a family member passing away, or loosing a limb. The bonding is so intense. For the old man, his life has changed this day. He told me he won't take another dog, and so he has the memories. He is such a gentle old man, and I knew that him sitting there on that bench today, was about respecting his gentle dog companion.
I don't look forward to the day, when I would be in a similar situation, but then again, I have no understanding of how all these other people walking past me, looking down in fear of my Honey, can live even a single day without that total magic that a dog brings to your life. I feel like Honey's father, but at the same time feel like she is my protector. Not just against those evils in the world. But the protector of my heart and conscience! She makes me a better person, and for that I am glad, and for that I present my love to her.
Originally posted on my blog in 2013
Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | Instagram | Pinterest | LinkedIn | BeHance & Dribbble
