Before my dinner on my walk we saw a young dog, one of those big athletic ones maybe a weimaraner/lab mix galloping down the street, an empty Keewin Avenue, alongside his owner – a rather handsome (my best friend said so) thirty-something fellow flying along on rollerblades. The dog playfully had taken his leash in his mouth, clamped on close to where his owner was holding the leash in his hands as he swooshed along. His owner was crouching down low for more speed, with his smiling face slightly turned to look partially towards his exuberant dog while keeping an eye on where he was going.
I will not soon forget the look of sheer delight and bliss on their faces, their bestfriendness evident, the freedom of speed on the empty tree lined road, a beautiful sunny day. And the feeling of there being no place they’d rather be or company they’d rather be in.
My best friend peaked a glance at me and later said she was a bit apprehensive that I might ask why we can’t go rollerblading down the street. But as I assured her, I have no rollerblading aspirations and as a dachshund with a typical long body physique but rather shorter than average legs I feel my own athletic strength might be in skateboarding.