Swirling Leaves
There’s a sweet little preschool on our street just a few doors down from our house. Called Happyland it has a brightly painted gate and I often happen to be out and about with the dog at drop off and pick up time. Dukie adores children and he enjoys walking past the school or sniffing nearby and saying the odd hello when parents ask if their child can pet him. Our new neighborhood is proving just as dog friendly as the last; outings are usually punctuated by pleasant exchanges with people who would otherwise pass by without a word spoken such is the magical language of dog lovers.
Since our recent move south to Culver City we humans have all been experiencing the usual process of adjustment to a new location. Whether it’s the increased floor space at home, the different textures of the neighborhood or simply the greater number of miles driven to and from school, which gives one the authentic daily dose of Los Angeles and her horizontal vastness, we are slowly beginning to feel a greater sense of freedom. Dukie too has been growing accustomed to his new surroundings although we have noticed that it has taken him a little time to adjust. After his initial excitement at the new and spacious home there was a period where he seemed a little unsure of himself; perhaps because he was no longer living in an apartment. Where were all the dogs passing underneath his balcony to warn against? Where had his canine neighbours, a veritable threat to the well being of his family, disappeared to? What to do with all the quiet space? And so some interesting behaviours resurfaced in a very small way; a quiet echo of mannerisms we had seen before. Intimately familiar with the temperament and character of our beloved canine we all recalibrated our behaviour and in the past week or so his insecurity seems to have evaporated and his steady happiness blooms once again.
As I reflect upon the confused discomfort of my own reactions to moving, which I have come to expect if not accept with the ease I would wish, I also realise that there is no reason why a creature so sensitive to the moods and actions of his precious humans should not also experience some inner turmoil when his life changes so dramatically. And I think of the helplessness of the animal rebirth, of our personal responsibility for this loving, loyal and stubborn boy and of the wish that all dogs such as ours might experience the happiness of human family and home which this breed needs above all else.
Back on our morning adventure, we amble, sniff, amble some more and then take the occasional lengthy silent pause while Duke looks around smiling as his nose twitches at a million miles an hour just taking it all in without hurry or worry. I’m reminded of the wonder of this bond we share, of how the choice to adopt this amber eyed boy has brought so much love into our family and I too stand in silence watching. Watching as the wind ‘that strong creature from before the Flood’ moves unseen all around us and blows the leaves falling from the trees onwards in a swirling dance.
