dogs

While I sat in the park with R and C yesterday, two different dogs approached me. Both fell in love with me. The first was a squat young dachshund who stood off to my left and stared soulfully right into my eyes. We never touched. The second was a white Scottish terrier who clawed up my left leg in an effort to love me. It looked like a polar bear and wriggled. Its owners walked it away from me before I could stuff it into my mouth. Dogs love me.

Then R told a story about a donkey named Rosita that fell in love with him when he worked on a farm one summer. He described her as having a sweet face with long eyelashes and a deep emotional life. Rosita had miscarried years ago but continued to mill around the spot of earth where her fetus was buried. She backed up into R several times, but he would only pat her backside and move out of the way.

These are not exactly stories about conversations with strangers, because animals are too guileless to be strangers, but they belong on this blog because connections with animals are equally, ineffably wonderful.