In Search of Meaning

“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don’t know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring–it was peace.” -Milan Kundera

I awoke when the first beams of sunlight began to creep through the bedroom window. First I yawned, then stretched, spreading my body across the soft cushion of the bed. Finally I looked over at Elizabeth to see if any of my movements had woken her. Her eyes were still closed, fast asleep, or perhaps pretending to be. I could lick her face, or poke her gently with my paw, but I knew from experience that she would just roll over and ignore me. There would be no breakfast until she threw the blanket off of her body and swung her feet to the floor. That was my signal to jump off of the bed and run to the kitchen.

While I waited, I watched the sun slowly spread its light across the room, first onto the windowsill, then as a tiny sliver of orange across the wooden floor. I lay completely still, listening to the sounds of the city waking up; the swish of tires on the pavement, the click of boots on the sidewalk. Eventually I heard the quiet hissing of the coffeepot in the kitchen turning on.

It wouldn’t be long now.

After another bit of time where I amused myself first by scratching my ear, and then by burrowing my face deep underneath the fuzzy blanket, Elizabeth opened her eyes and gave me a sleepy smile.

“Morning Nova.”

I jumped off the bed, tail wagging excitedly, as she swung her legs off the side of the bed.

“Go faster,” I whined. I ran towards the kitchen in case she had forgotten what she was supposed to do next. Thankfully, she went right to the high cabinet, removed a can of food, picked up both of my bowls, and soon I had a delicious breakfast and a bowl of cool fresh water.

It was gone almost immediately. Sometimes I tried to eat my food slowly, to savor it, but it never worked, I was too hungry and it was too good. I licked the remaining flavor off of the sides of the bowl and then curled into a ball on the couch, watching.

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. She sighed deeply and pulled a mug out of the cabinet right above the one where my cans were kept. I kept my eyes on her as she poured coffee, added a dash of cream and a spoonful of sugar. Today she sat down at the kitchen table, so I jumped off of the couch and padded my way back to lie down at her feet instead. The window was open slightly and a small breeze tickled my nose. I listened to Elizabeth’s quiet breathing, smelled the sweet scent of coffee in the air. I knew when the mug was empty she would slip on shoes and grab my leash from its hook by the door, but for now I was content to just lie there, the cool tiles of the kitchen floor against my belly.

It was a perfect morning.

Elizabeth hadn’t noticed the slow crawl of the sun across her bedroom, and she didn’t hear the sounds outside. Sometimes I tried to show her these things, rolling over onto my back for belly rubs inside the warm circle of sunshine that eventually fell onto the bed in mid morning. Occasionally, I stood by the open window, my nose twitching, and tried to tell her about all of the adventures drifting in on the breeze. It was hard to know if she understood me, and usually she was too busy rushing to pause by the window anyway.

This morning was no different. From my spot back on the bed, I watched as Elizabeth removed clothing from the closet, ran a brush through her hair. She paused by the full length mirror that hung on the back of the bedroom door, frowned at her reflection, tugged her shirt one way, her skirt another. Eventually she exhaled loudly and tossed the shirt onto the bed, barely missing my head. When she was finally dressed, in another outfit entirely, she sighed again and grabbed the tall boots from the shoe rack by the front door. Right before she was about to grab my leash, the phone rang.

“Hello. I’m about to walk the dog. Yeah I didn’t forget, I know it is this weekend. I told you I would take care of it. Yes, I know you are busy, I will make a lasagne or something. Yes of course I remember that Skye is a vegetarian now. I will check with mom. If she doesn’t have any, I can bring some. Listen, I have to go, Nova is whimpering by the door. I love you too. Bye.”

I wasn’t. But I was fine with Elizabeth using me as an excuse.

We went outside into the morning. After sniffing the tree right outside and the fire hydrant on the corner, I waited to see which way Elizabeth was going to turn. Sometimes we went towards the street where the stores were; the coffeeshop where they sometimes gave me treats, one that smelled like perfume and the glorious one that smelled like chicken. But today we turned in the other direction, towards the park.

The air here smelled like freshly cut grass, dirt, and the markings of other dogs. Elizabeth lengthened the leash a bit so I could run across a field. I even tried to chase a squirrel (almost caught him too!) before he ran up the trunk of a tree. I barked a few times to thank him for the game.

I was quite sleepy by the time we returned home, and so I curled up in a ball on the sofa while Elizabeth showered and got ready to leave for work. She made sure my water bowl was full and scratched behind my ears.

“See you later Nova. Be a good girl.”

I always was.

***************

“If it is all the same to you, I would actually prefer to not go. You know your mother hates me.”

I awoke to the sound of the key in the door and a man’s voice, one that I did not like.

“She doesn’t hate you Michael. She doesn’t even know you.”

I jumped off the couch, tail wagging, and ran over to Elizabeth who immediately squatted down so I could lick her face.

The man put a delicious smelling bag down on the kitchen counter. He ignored me, as always.

“Yeah well I don’t think she wants to get to know me. Which, to be honest, is totally fine because I’m not really a parent person.”

I ran over to my food bowl and sat, attempting to wait patiently while Elizabeth took plates and silverware out of the cabinet. She opened and closed the fridge, poured water into glasses. Eventually I let out a little bark, just a tiny one. I remembered that this man didn’t like it when I made too much noise.

“Oh Nova, sorry!” Elizabeth filled my bowl with food and set it down at my feet. The man went to sit at the table, also waiting to be fed I guess, which I found silly since he could clearly fill his own bowl.

When they were both seated I settled myself underneath the table, careful to only touch Elizabeth. The man didn’t like it when I got too close to him.

“If you can get out of there early we can get together after though. Maybe catch a movie.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s my mother’s 80th birthday. I probably should stay awhile, you know?”

The man sighed, a loud, irritated sound that made my skin prickle.

“Can’t your sister entertain her?”

“She isn’t an unsupervised toddler,” Elizabeth replied. “She is my mother.”

She was tapping her leg against the floor next to me. I couldn’t see her face from under the table, but I knew she was getting frustrated. I could tell by the stiffness of her legs, the wiggling of her toes. I gently pushed my head against her foot, hoping the softness would help.

The man left soon after dinner, which I preferred. I wasn’t allowed in the bed when he slept over, instead Elizabeth would throw a fuzzy blanket on the floor, which was cozy enough but not the same as burrowing against the warmth of her back in the middle of the night. Since he was gone, she sat on the sofa instead, and let me climb into her lap.

“Oh Nova why do I even bother?”

If I could speak I would have said not to. That the man was mean and loud and smelled funny. That we were better off without him.

Instead, I barked once, jumped to the floor, pulled a large stuffed turtle out of my toy basket and dropped it next to her. I was happy when she smiled down at me.

“Playtime?”

I wagged my tail and barked again.

“Shhhh,” she said, but she was laughing so I knew I had done my job.

*******************

Sometimes Elizabeth felt lost, like her life had no purpose. I knew this because I had heard her say it to other people, but also because sometimes she would cry at night, burying her wet face into my fur as if I were a towel.

Occasionally, she would come home happy, but more often she would just seem tired. Not the good kind of tired, like after a long play session at the park, but a heavy kind, as if putting one foot in front of the other took too much effort.

I knew that humans sometimes felt like this. That their brains were often full of big, worrisome ideas about who they ought to be, what they needed to do.

My thoughts were more simple; a smell in the air, the sound of a can being opened. For me the best place in the world was curled up in that little patch of sunshine on the bed.

Elizabeth was often gone for most of the day, but sometimes there would be a time where she was around more, hanging out with me on the couch, taking me out for longer walks in the sunshine.

I didn’t know days like people did, workdays, weekends . My life was broken up into meals and walks and cozy naps. But today was one of those long days, because Elizabeth didn’t run right out after breakfast like she usually did, and we walked in the park for what felt like hours.

Finally, she sat down on a bench by a lake that was heavy with muddy scents. I was tired too so I lay down next to her, and together we watched the world.

I was lazily chewing on the piece of rawhide that Elizabeth kept in her bag, She had a cup of coffee from the sweet smelling place near the park entrance, which she would sip from, slowly, one sip every few minutes.

The lake had bright green algae and an equally green tree hanging over it. The sky was bright blue. I watched as Elizabeth noticed these things, as if it were the first time she was seeing them.

It was surprisingly quiet there among the scents of damp earth and coffee so I could hear when her breathing slowed.

“Its nice here isn’t it, Nova.”

If I could speak I would have said that it was always nice there. That sometimes the sun would sparkle off of the lake so brightly it would hurt my eyes to look at if for too long. That other days there were frogs who poked their heads out of the muddy water, dragonflies that danced across the algae. I would have told her that today the air smelled like dirt after the rain, but that other times it smelled like scraps from someone’s lunch or the perfume of recently washed hair. I would have told her that she too could notice all of these things if she just stood still a little bit more.

Since I couldn’t say any of this, I simply licked her face.

“We should do this more.”

Another face lick. This one made her giggle.

Dogs don’t have to worry about purpose, or meaning. My job was to smell the lake, to feel the sunshine on my back. And, if I was really lucky, to share it all with someone I loved.

We walked back home slowly, savoring the last bits of daylight.

It was the best day I had had in awhile. It was the best day for Elizabeth too. I am not sure how I knew that, but I did.