It’s Monday
Most people would look at this scene and think nothing of it. A man sitting on a park bench on a sunny day talking to his dog is hardly a rare scene, but there is something quite different about this man, something quite different about this dog.
Robbie, can you believe it’s been three years already?
Everything seems surreal to me now, so fake, so pointless.
I hate to admit it, and I won’t, not to anyone, not to sis, not to mom…
I can only tell you, because I know you won’t say a word, but I feel like just giving up..
What’s the point of it all?
The doggie’s eyes firmly stare at the man, as if attempting to enter the deepest parts of his owner's soul. The head cradled between the man’s knees so lightly, so gently, as if it understands the delicate nature of the man’s mental state.
There’s a woman staring at this scene from a distance, she seems inspired by the loving nature of the beautiful dog tending to his human. She’s not alone in the park, some of her co-workers are there with her, killing the last minutes before heading back to work, back to the office.
Nadia, What are you doing? We got five minutes before we get in trouble, you know Scott can be a prick about punctuality, let’s go!
I’m coming, says Nadia, sorry about that, my mind was somewhere else.
That whole evening Nadia could not stop thinking about the man in the park. There was just something about it that beckoned her into deep thought. She had witnessed similar things before, after all, a loving dog is not a rare sight, but there was something about it that felt different, unexplainably different.
As if inspired by something external to her own mind, she decided to write a little note and leave it taped to the park’s bench, the very bench where that man sits every day around lunch.
Maybe it was curiosity, maybe the desire to feel like a child again, but she thought to herself: What could go wrong? Maybe I can make him smile for once.
It’s Tuesday
The very next day the man arrived with his loyal pooch, sat on the bench with his coffee in hand and looked around. It’s almost as if he wanted to make sure he was alone.
Robbie… I think it’s time for me to go too.
I never thought I would think like this, but here I am, this is my life now and I’m not sure I want it anymore.
You understand, right?
As his left hand slid back looking for a comfortable place to rest, the man felt a piece of paper wrinkle under his palm.
What is this? - The man said out loud.
A note? A poem?
As the man read the letter, his expressions softened. You couldn’t call it a smile, but it certainly looked like it reminded him of better days.
In the quiet of the dawn, where dreams and reality blend,
Life’s grand theater begins, with an enigmatic end.
Every heart a hidden treasure, every soul a mystery,
In the labyrinth of existence, where the curious find their key.
Who wrote this? For who? The man said.
Robbie… are you trying to cheer me up?
The man looked around, a bit embarrassed it would seem, as he placed the poem in his jacket’s pocket.
This can’t be meant for me, he thought, but I quite like it so I guess I’ll keep it.
Should I reply? Should I leave a note of my own?
What do you think Robbie?
As soon as he finished the question the dog began to wag his tail in excitement, as if the man had guessed what the pup was thinking with absolute accuracy. With vitality that seemed uncommon to him, the man got up and left the park, to then return some time later with a note of his own. He taped the note in the exact same spot he found the poem and disappeared into the night.
It’s Wednesday
Nadia!!! Where are you going? A voice uttered
I’ll be right back, give me two minutes…
We are going to be late Nadia…
Two minutes, just two minutes
As Nadia approached the bench she noticed the letter she had left there untouched. Disappointment reflected in her expression, she grabbed the note and placed it in her pocket and rushed back to her friend.
What did you grab, Nadia? What is that?
Nothing. Nadia replied - don’t worry about it, it’s something dumb.
It was lunchtime, and again a small group of coworkers was heading back towards the office, cutting through the park to make the route a bit more lively, to forget how confined it feels to work inside the boring cubicles.
As Nadia reaches the middle of the Park, she sees the man, sitting on the bench by the water again as he usually does with his loyal dog by his side.
This time there’s something different about the man, something noticeable but only to her.
His posture was different, his eyes seemed to be looking for someone, she thought to herself as she corrected her pace to keep up with her friends.
It’s a few hours past lunch now and Nadia is sitting back at her desk thinking about the man, about the poem, about that special dog.
It was a good poem, Nadia thinks to herself - maybe it cheered him up a bit after all, maybe that is what I saw. Maybe he read it and just left it there thinking it wasn’t for him. What a goof…
How did it go again?
Attempting to recite it in her mind, she remembers having recovered the original poem a few hours ago and reaches into her pocket for it.
This is not my poem, she exclaims...
Mountains whisper ancient tales, rivers sing of yore,
Stars above in silent vigil, stories evermore.
The rustling leaves, the ocean’s roar,
Each a clue, each an open door.
He wrote this, she uttered; That is why he was in a better mood, it did make his day a little better after all.
On the way home that very night Nadia kept on thinking about the man and his dog. Maybe I just reply, she thought.
That same night before going to bed Nadia decides to continue the poem, to add an ending to it, to write something that would make it uplifting. She ends up staying up until quite late attempting this self imposed task.
It’s Thursday
Nadia? A voice cries… I thought you were sick or something, I’ve been calling you for an hour and you never picked up. How come you are so early today?
Oh, I wanted to get a leg up on the report, that’s all…
I would love to believe you Nadia, but I know you well enough to know you are hiding something from me.
It’s dumb, Nadia replies, I don’t want to talk about it, Ok?
Yes of course, no worries… Catch you later. Lunch?
Yes, yes… I'll be there, I promise.
It only took Nadia until 2am to finish the poem, the end of the poem. It had to give the mystery man hope, anything short of that meant that she made no difference, and she couldn’t possibly be OK with that.
So wander through the twilight, let your spirit soar,
For life is full of wonder, and forever more.
Embrace the unknown paths, the questions yet to be,
In the grandeur of the cosmos, find your destiny.
She had placed the ending of the poem in the same place, trusting destiny’s hand was at play here. The very idea of helping someone smile, someone to find tiny rays of joy also fed her own soul, and made her forget how much she actually hated her stupid job.
She had just finished lunch when her coworkers got up and began the dreaded walk back to the cement imprisonment, as she called it.
Can we walk through the park again? She asked.
We really gotta go guys, said a voice, let’s just get in my car or we are going to be late. No way we can make it in less than 5 minutes walking.
I’m just going to be a few minutes late, said Nadia, as she removed a ring from her right hand.
I seem to have lost a ring, and I walked here through the park, so I’m going to try to see if I can find it.
Shit Nadia… you better hope Scott is in a good mood today…
Well, I don’t care if he is, she said, this ring was a gift from grandma and I’m not going to give up on it just yet.
You do you girl, you do you.
Nadia got up from the table, crossed the street straight into the park. Her pace was fast, but her eyes were fixated on the water, attempting to see the reflection of the man without being too obvious.
Mystery man didn’t come? That’s a first… she said out loud
Oh well, I hope he’s having a good day because I’m not
She took two more steps when she saw the pup looking at her twenty feet ahead. His stare as kind as always, with those deep penetrating eyes.
Hey boy… where is your dad? You're not lost, are you?
The pup got up, turned around and began walking away from Nadia as if he knew she would follow.
I can’t come with you boy, I’m late for work.
The pup turned his face towards her gently for a second and kept walking.
I guess I’m going to be late for work again, she thought. I can’t just let this pooch get run over by a car or something.
Just a couple of minutes had passed when she noticed a figure at the distance. A man standing next to an Oak tree, staring towards the lake with an easel in front of him. His body language suggested it was a man in his element.
Nadia could not help getting close to the man, drawn by the details of the painting that became clearer and clearer as she neared.
I would have never guessed you were a painter, Nadia said with a confidence that surprised even her.
I used to be, well… maybe I still am, replied the man.
The man didn’t seem surprised by Nadia’s visit, on the contrary, his calmness suggested he expected her, even though that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
I didn’t know you were a writer, he finally said.
Me? Nadia replied.
Did you not write that poem? He asked.
Oh… yes… yes I did
I really enjoyed it, thank you… he said with a tone so soothing, it made Nadia forget about the time.
Nadia’s nervousness finally caught up with her, and for almost a minute she said nothing.
As she stared into the painting she noticed a familiar figure on the right bottom corner; Mystery man’s loving pooch!
Is this your dog? He’s beautiful, she finally said.
Yes, he replied.
He seems like a very special creature, I can just tell.
Yes, very special, his voice said almost breaking.
Nadia noticed the man’s eyes filling with water and realized she must have said something dumb or inappropriate. Her face painted with guilt was impossible to hide.
No wait… the man said..
Let’s do this again. My name is Jon.
Pleasure to meet you Jon, I’m Nadia.
The pleasure is all mine, said Jon.
What is your dog’s name Jon? I bet he’s got the coolest name.
Jon smiled softly, his eyes still filled with water, he put his brush back on the easel and turned to face Nadia. His eyes revealed a kindness that she had not seen before, not from a grown man at least, she thought.
My dog’s name was Robbie, he finally said
He was my soul dog, the kind of dog you only find once in your life, you know…
We used to come to the park all the time, this was his favorite place.
I guess that is why I still come here every day, to remember him..
He’s been gone for 3 years now, but somehow I feel like when I’m here, his spirit is still with me, like he’s not really gone.
You're gonna think I’m trouble or something, but that feeling keeps me going.
Nadia could not believe what she was hearing, could not believe this was happening to her. She’s never been the type of person to believe in destiny, in ghosts or any of those things. Yet she’s sure she saw Robbie sitting on that Bench with Jon just yesterday. She’s sure she just followed Robbie right to Jon.
Jon, don’t take this the wrong way and I can’t tell you how I know, but...
Jon lifted his face to meet Nadia’s gaze and after a few seconds of complete silence she finally said.
Robbie… he never left your side.
Afterword
No idea where this story comes from. I sat on my computer today and began writing it as if someone had told me this story a long time ago and the memories just came rushing back.
That being said, I think it's a good way to break away from the things I've been writing on this blog lately. This may not be a true story, but I sincerely hope it inspires true emotions for those who read it.
This story is a little tribute to the special doggies in my life, the ones that I have the honor and privilege to care for, and the ones that left this plane.
MenO
Excellent, captivating and moving story, mate.
Yeah, because many of us already know that not only cats are enigmatic and funny creatures.
thank you my friend