A part of me wanted to approach him, the man with his dog. I wanted to say, "He's beautiful, and I've always liked dachshunds."
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| photo from dogdow.com |
I'd have said, "I noticed you talking to the little guy. What was it you whispered so sweetly?" I saw them as companions, compadres, cohorts. They were dude and pooch, both squat and chesty with abbreviated legs, and a powerful bond.
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But instead I watched from my spot, cozy in that place between warm sunlight, cool wind.
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I decided that a verbal exchange I could dream up, the picture sketched before me, the
what if, was good enough. Maybe better than the truth of the moment.
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So I looked on and I imagined, and that was all.
