For a dog, every day is an adventure. They wake up, patiently wait until the lazy humans get out of bed (or just howl and cry until they do) and then have you go on a walk with them. If you walk with them on the same trail, day after day after day, they will love you every day a little bit more, just because you’re there.
I, on the other hand, got bored and wanted change.
If you are bored, dare to change.
So instead of walking downstream through the dried-out riverbed, this morning I decided to act against the monotony of life and turn the world upside down. The dogs looked at me as if I’d lost my marbles but adopted my insanity with casual ease.
Then we walked…in the opposite direction.
I followed the path of smooth pebbles, underneath bushes and fields hidden from plain sight. When I passed a small, century-old bridge and thought I was back home, only to discover there are more bridges in the world than across our house. Not knowing where I was, I climbed out of the gutter to find a trail leading up a mountain with, drumroll, another bridge.
Excited and eager to explore my new surroundings, the dogs and I walked through a land of olive trees. It was the first time in a long time, I felt like a hiker again. The overwhelming pleasure of freedom was beating through my chest like a pressure hammer on concrete. Nature has this effect on me. It kept reminding me that true happiness lies outside of four walls, with dirt underneath my shoes and fresh air on my face. I walked in this Zen state of contemplation and gratitude, close to the apex of total enlightenment and becoming Buddha when I saw a deer moving between bushes.
It took Lilly only a split second to jump the slope and give the poor animal chase. Buster followed right behind. His legs may be short compared to Lilly’s (and every other animal on the planet) but there was no chance he would miss an opportunity to hunt something down. I called after them, but their brains went primal, focused only on the marvelously moving meat.
As a kid, I was taught the secret technique of whistling by sticking fingers in my mouth. I became obsessed with the skill and trained every day until I became good at it. Real good.
I licked my lips, first the upper one, then the lower. Index and middle fingers of both hands formed a perfect triangle with my tongue in between. A sharp inhale through the nose and I swear by Batman, I whistled the loudest whistle in the history of whistling.
The sound was deafening even in my ears, the shrill tone echoed through the valley and over the Mediterranean Sea to Africa. Some people have claimed, that a sack of rice fell in China because of the soundwave. I’m not doubting them.
Lilly recognized an urgency in the tone and stopped, looking confused between me and the fleeing deer, torn between her primitive instinct of bloodlust and unquestionable loyalty towards humans. She decided to call it a day and returned to my side.
Buster didn’t give a shit. He was a dog of pure focus and commitment, eyes locked on his prey as he shut off the outside world and chased an animal ten times his size and at least triple his pace.
I whistled and yelled, shouted, and cried. Would Buster stop and admit his defeat? Would he find his way back? Fuck, I thought. What if I lose the dog?
The story unfold in my head before I knew I was even thinking. After less than a month, I needed to explain to the owners I had lost their dog.
Dear Charles, dear Camilla,
Life is a tragedy and why should it stop only because the sun is shining and the sky is devout of clouds? Sometimes, things happen which are outside our influence. But with every turn of the world, while the sun falters towards the horizon and the moon rises through the sky, we can be assured that night will turn into day again.
Anyway, I lost your dog. Sorry for that.
But the other animals are fine. See you in 5 months.
Yours truly, Dennis
This shouldn’t end like this.
“Buster!” I called out. “This will be the last time ever, in the history of going for walks, that you went without a leash. Until the end of time, your sorry ass will be bound to the tether of authority and discipline.”
I sighed and had an idea. “Lilly,” I said. “Can you smell Buster? Do you know where Buster ran?” She looked at me as if I was the most stupid being she had ever seen and took a dump next to me.
“Thank you for your help.”
As always, saving the world and our reputation as Housesitters was on me. I searched the area in concentric patterns, then decided to climb the mountain to its highest point to have a vantage point of view. Maybe I could spot a moving piece of bad dog from there.
On my way, I found a salt stone left by hunters to attract and shoot deer. Now, there was only a small Jack Russel Terrier, licking his tongue numb.
Damn, I was pissed. I swore like a pirate raiding a town full of obese vegetarians. “You’re bad and you should feel bad!” I said. Buster just smiled a happy face, oblivious to my outrage. His tongue hung loosely out of his mouth and almost dragged on the ground.
He didn’t feel bad at all.
Want to read more of the Housesitter’s Diaries? Read (or listen) on from Episode 01.
Or find the whole Roadmap of Stories here.