Memories of a Dog

When I lived in the east part of town, I liked to sit at the coffee shop on the corner with my dog. Chauncy was a little rat, but she was a good dog. She never complained and she was more approachable than I. In the evening, when the sun was going down, we'd go get a coffee and sit on the bench out front. 

We'd watch the people walk past. 

Some would smile.

Some nodded.

Some would pet Chancy and some would ask first.

And some would just walk past.

Like many times a young girl came out of the shop, coffee in hand. This one was one of the ones that asked first. She pet Chauncy and talked to me. She was kind. Unintimidated. She wasn't put off by my appearance. Even Chauncy with her tiny, trembling body, bugged eyes, graying fur was more charming than my scraggly, sagging face, gnarled hands, and slouchy posture. 

The girl sat next to us on the bench. She was waiting for her boyfriend. She was a sweet girl. Tall and almost disproportionately long legs. She was young. She still had some of that awkward teen posture. Girls like that grow into beautiful women.

She was kind and for as young as she was, she seemed old. Her voice was deep and she could listen. When most people stopped to pet Chauncy, they rarely asked me questions other than whether or not she was indeed a chihuahua and even more rarely did they sit. She sat with us. And listened.

I told her about growing up in the north. I told her about the cold. She asked what I did for a living. I told her about having been a brewer. I told her about making beer and drinking beer and that though it was work, it was fun. I told her about the importance of working hard to make your way in this world. I told her she should always remember to have fun. Life isn't as short as people think. If you spend the whole time working and fighting, you'll grow old and never really enjoy it.

About then her boyfriend showed up. She stood up and shook my hand. 

"It was nice to meet you, Billy. I hope to see you again."

As she walked away, I smiled.

"Have fun, little girl."

She turned and smiled back.

"Yes sir."

I'm fairly certain she'll get it right. While I sit here on a bench in front of a coffee shop, remembering Chauncy, she's out there. Still working. Still listening.