Sweet Puppy

Parker Stanislaw Magoo is generally not a "good" dog. He is my best friend, and I've loved him since he first tripped over his ears and into my heart almost seven years ago. But I am not blinded by my love for him.

He is very vocal. I have countless videos of him "talking back" to me. He is stubborn. He has destroyed more socks than I can count. In 2020, he ate my Popeye's Spicy Chicken sandwich in the two seconds I got up to grab napkins. Every time he takes a bath, the floors and walls (and myself) all end up wetter than he does. He consistently gets his ass kicked by the neighborhood cats. He is cowardly, and once gave a great yelp after stepping on a frog on a twilight stroll. He holds the record for the most banana peels eaten within a five block radius. (Eight.)

For all of his misdeeds and quirky behaviors, however, Parker makes up for it by being the absolute sweetest. He is affectionate and has been a cuddle-bug since the very beginning. He is gentle and makes others feel at ease. Children in my apartment complex that were once afraid of all dogs used to come and knock on my door to ask if Parker could come out and play.

And Parker is sensitive. On days when I feel like nobody understands me, when I’m too tired or too stressed, he flops down next to me and sighs the sighs that cannot escape from the tightness in my chest, from the locks on my lungs. He sighs the sighs for me, wags his tail, and in that moment, even if he doesn’t understand, he knows.

He is a handsome dog, and quite unique: a Basset hound whose genetic makeup included a recessive gene that gave him long hair. Without fail, every walk we go on, someone stops us to comment on his appearance and how adorable he is. Parker relishes the attention. I suppose I do as well. It is nice to have a dog that gives people pause and leaves them with a smile on their faces.

Parker embodies light, and shares it with everyone he meets. I know this as his Dad, and have seen and felt it first hand. It’s almost like magic. And there is one magical encounter I will never forget.

It happened this past April, during one of our evening walks. Parker ambled ahead of me on his leash. The nails on his paws clicked softly on the concrete with each step. His long, black ears bounced in tempo. Occasional shifts in the breeze's velocity caused both ears to hang suspended mid-air momentarily. He rarely lifted his eyes up from the ground, relying on his great, snuffling nose to do most of the "seeing" for him.

We approached a street corner. Parker stopped and turned back to look at me. His eyebrows arched slightly, as if he was asking a question. His feathered tail wagged slowly, anticipating my response. I grinned affectionately at him.

"Good b-agh!" was all I could muster as I was suddenly yanked forward. My clutch on the leash tightened instinctively as I stumbled clumsily behind Parker, who had succumbed to some irresistible smells lingering on a nearby bush. His nose twitched excitedly as he propelled his squat little body towards the shrub. I stood upright and smoothed out the front of my shirt, muttering grievances under my breath as I did.

“Really? Was that absolutely necessary? Hey! Dog! I’m talking to you!” Parker was lost to his nose and the hidden worlds it revealed to only him. I continued to chastise him for his thoughtlessness. His head disappeared deeper inside the bush. My admonishments were met with excited snorts.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” I crossed my arms across my chest and tapped my foot, anxiously awaiting his rebuttal. This time, he emerged from the branches, and his face came into view. Mopey, brown eyes looked first at me, then back at the bush. He sneezed at it, looked back at me, and gave his whole body a shake. I accepted this as his apology and thanked him sincerely.

We continued across the street. We had barely made it to the other side, when he stopped dead in his tracks. His ears perked up. That was the moment he heard her. He cocked his head to the side, puzzled by a ruckus from up ahead.

I followed my dog's gaze, and I saw her. A frail, middle-aged woman, in an oversized forest-green shirt and baggy blue jeans, stood in the middle of the sidewalk. Her hands made frenzied movements, like she was placing exclamation points in the air, as she spoke urgently to no one.

Before I could change course, Parker forged ahead, curious and determined. “Stubborn dog.” There was no alternative, unless I wanted to wait to cross four lanes of traffic. I told myself we would just walk by quickly. Avoid eye-contact.

A few steps forward, and I could hear her. Her words were garbled and nonsensical. And though the mixture of consonant and vowel sounds clearly meant something to her, unfortunately, I did not speak her secret language.

“Nothing I can do," I told myself. I was unemployed, and money was tight. I had nothing to give her.

Closer, and I noticed her dirty, straw-colored hair. Her skin was weathered and leathery. The tattered shirt all but consumed her thin, bony frame. She scowled at everything, and her nose was scrunched up tight, as if she were smelling something unpleasant.

Even closer. I could tell from the way the exclamation points in her hands were sending her wrists flailing, that she was more distressed. She looked everywhere. It felt as if she were desperately imploring the world or the universe to actually listen. But there was no one.

"Nothing I can do. Nothing I can do," I muttered to myself. Her back was to us. I tightened the lead on Parker and quickened my pace. As close as we were, I still could not understand any of the words that were escaping her lips. Her speech was foreign to the city, the state, the country, the planet! I didn’t understand her, so what could I do?

We were about to pass her when Parker threw on his emergency brake and sat down. My body continued forward as my arm was yanked backwards. I lost my balance, and let out an "Oof." Stubborn dog. I tugged on his leash but he would not budge. He was transfixed on her.

She spun around, and her eyes rested on Parker. She took the exclamation points in her hands and put them in her pockets. Slowly, she sat down cross-legged in front of us. Her haggard face un-scrunched itself, and a smile tugged faintly at the corners of her lips. Parker wagged his tail meekly.

She looked up at me. Her eyes were a deep, rich blue - as blue as the ocean, and just as big and unknown. They looked at me with earnest, and then at Parker. I could not understand her speech, but her eyes were very clear. I watched hope dance across the blues of her irises, and saw them shimmer politely as she awaited my response to her unspoken request. I nodded.

Her joy could not be contained - her smile was toothy and crooked, and she giggled a little as she clapped excitedly. Wrinkled hands reached out to cup Parker’s face. She stared into his eyes with earnest, like she was searching for something. A short moment passed before she seemingly found what she had been looking for. She nodded her head approvingly and then giggled again.

“Sweet puppy,” she murmured. These were the first words I had been able to recognize. Then she sniffled. Her smile disappeared. Quietly, she began to sob. Pulling Parker in close, she kissed the top of his head. I wanted to intervene, but a small voice inside my head told me to wait. So I did. Parker leaned into the woman as she gently cried into his fur. Not once did he try and retreat back to me, nor did he whine or fidget.

No more than two or three minutes passed before she calmed down a little and wiped the tears from her face. Then, lifting one of his long ears, she cupped her hands to conceal her mouth and gently whispered to him. What she said, I will never know… I suspect, she shared with Parker the things no one else heard or could understand. Or would understand.

She returned his ear to the side of his head with care. Then she mushed his face in her hands and stared into his eyes again. She sighed, satisfied, and kissed his nose. She stood up and turned to me, displaying her toothy grin again. A shaky, wrinkled hand found it’s way to my shoulder.

“Sweet puppy.” She patted my shoulder twice, tenderly. “Thank you,” she said with some effort. I nodded and returned the smile. One more pat on my shoulder. She blew us a kiss and then walked away, beaming. No more exclamation points escaped from her hands or her pockets. I watched her go, utterly stunned by what had just transpired in the last few minutes.

Suddenly, I blinked, confused. Wait… Wait!

“Wait, ma’am! Do you need help? Ma’am!” She didn't turn around. Instead, she turned the corner and disappeared from our sight.

I looked down at Parker. He looked up at me and wagged his tail. I swear, he smiled at me, too. I tousled his ears.

We continued on our walk, both a little more full. Myself, full of wonder for having witnessed something so transcendent and mystical. Parker, full of the secrets she had entrusted to him - my sweet puppy.