about a dog

I love the sound a dog’s floppy ears make when he shakes his head. As I sit in my office at home, across the alley a yard houses two springy pit bulls. Just jaws with eyes, they have enormous heads. They’ve not suffered the indignity of cosmetic surgery, which animals definitely do not require, so they have their velvety ears and slappy tails. As I drive through the alley the male meets me at his back fence, the female is tied up on a long chain and can’t reach the fence. They’ve recently made her chain longer so she can get to the fence in only one spot – but she can get there and she’s happy about it. I get out of my car to pet the smiling beasts, they’re always happy for a pet. I pet them because it seems inevitable that they will one day escape. They can jump so high that clearing the fence is only a matter of time and will. No doubt they can get out if they feel like it (well, not the girl – she’s tied). I want them to like me for the time they’re running around loose and panicked. They’re not trained for meanness, I’ve seen small children out in the yard playing with them.

As I sit up in my office trying to concentrate on work they’re lying down out of my sight. But every now and then I can hear the flop-flop-flop-flop of the soft ears swinging around the head like those balls on the tiny plastic drums. That sound makes my heart sing. It means somewhere a dog is relaxed and happy and just being a dog. And every time I hear it I wish I could be a dog too.