Staring Contest

I got in a staring contest with a dog today. I was walking. He was sitting. I say he only because I believe his name was Aaron.  And a better description than sitting would be staying put. I contemplate freedom only when I see someone that lacks it. Aaron lacks it. So I thought about being able to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I like freedom.

Aaron was probably thinking the opposite.  If Aaron were a human being he would be that old gray haired man with spectacles on the tip of his nose. He would only wear wool; on his upper body and his feet.  People would say things like “that Aaron can really tell a story” and “ Aaron is so smart.” But Aaron is a dog.

Aaron has lost his bite. Or at least I think he has.  He did not bark at me. He did not run about disregarding the leash around his neck. Aaron stays put. “Has he lost his excitement for being alive or is he tired of being a dog?”

With a sigh, which I saw with my eyes rather than hearing with my ears, Aaron reached out to me. Aaron must have had one of those mornings. I have had a lot of those.  Or maybe one of those weeks. Or maybe one of those doggie years. Dogs think way more than we think they do. Dogs are way smarter than cats. But not as smart as horses. Horses are really smart.

I stare. He stares back. I keep walking. He stays put. I keep staring. He keeps staring back. I feel sorry for Aaron. He stares back. He has a gray goatee. I keep walking and staring. He stares back. Aaron is the best at this game. I am playing a game. I do not think Aaron is playing.

I wander what Aaron is doing right now. Probably staying put. Probably just staring. Aaron is a dog.