The Dog And His Runner

The Dog And His Runner; Bridging The Great Divide

Wolfgang saw I had a leash in my hand as I walked toward him. He began dancing around. “Come on, new friend,” I said. “Let’s go for a run.” It was hard to attach the leash due to his dancing around. Then, the mission accomplished, we exited his all-too-familiar back yard.

I was 27, which was an optimal year for running, or at least should be. I’d been letting myself get a bit out of shape, what with my busy first semester in the Ph.D. program in neuroscience, and settling in at the small house I was renting, and going places I wouldn’t ordinarily go to try to meet people, and spending time trying to write poetry. But those were excuses. I’d been lazy about exercising. “Lazy me,” I told Wolfgang. He bounded ahead, tugging at the leash.

“You choose the wrong shrubbery to run through, Wolfgang,” I said, panting. “I will have to remove the burrs from your fur before I return you to George. Otherwise he might raise my rent. Even worse, he might not let me take you running anymore.” Then Wolfgang decided the pause for sniffing was over, and I had no more breath to talk.

We came to a park. A woman was there with her dog. Wolfgang might have pulled my arm out of its socket if we hadn’t gone to their vicinity. “Wolfgang’s friendly,” I told her apologetically.

“It’s all right,” she said. “So is Adrianna.”

The dogs sniffed various parts of each other’s anatomy. “You are a beauty,” she said to Wolfgang. She knelt, held her hand to his nose, and then stroked his fur.

“He has some burrs at present,” I said.

She smiled. “He slobbers, also,” she said affectionately. “He’s a big slobbery, burry, happy fellow.”

He wagged his tail in agreement.

She rose. “Dogs are such a comfort. And if we give them the best care we can, their spirits will be grateful afterwards. We’ll have that love sent to us across the great divide. We’ll feel mental warmth and know it’s from them.” She smiled at me. “And you’re taking him for an outing. How good of you.”

I thought: Will you marry me? I need someone like you.

She glanced at her watch. “Well, it’s my turn to fix dinner. Henry is probably getting hungry by now.” She held out her hand. “Goodbye. Nice to have chatted with you.”

I grasped her hand. “Goodbye. Yes, it was.”

Adrianna began to sniff at Wolfgang. “Come on, you already did that,” she said to Adrianna. They walked away.

Wolfgang looked at them wistfully. I did the same. Then, resilient, he began running eagerly. He was searching for new adventures.

A fatiguing time later, we returned home. He didn’t dance quite as animatedly as earlier while I took off his leash. He was reasonably compliant while I removed the burrs I could find. “This is just the first run, friend. We shall do this countless times ahead.” He was indeed slobbery, as she’d said.

I sang as I took a shower. Thinking about the run with Wolfgang brought spontaneous words to my throat. “I’m a part of your destiny. Now and forever, irrevocably.” A new poem! Maybe I could add to it.

But later when I sat at my desk I thought about other topics than poetry. I wouldn’t have done all that running on my own. Doing it for Wolfgang’s sake made it easily tolerated, though, and in fact enjoyable. Perhaps people could become more motivated to exercise if they knew someone else would benefit. But how might that be arranged? No solution occurred to me, but I sensed one could be found.

She’d talked about love being sent to us from the spirit world. Might that be true? She’d said that love became mental warmth. Was there a way to detect love in the brain? And where did that love get sent to? Was it the cerebrum or the brainstem or the cerebellum? How was it processed in the mind’s mysterious corridors subsequently? My advisor had mentioned I should begin thinking about a possible thesis topic, and now I had found one.

“Oh, Wolfgang,” I said as if he could hear me, “thank you so much for bringing the running with you into my life.”