Red was quick to point out,
“I am a noble service
dog, not a pack mule.”
Then his laughter filled my head,
“Besides, I'm not the ass of the group anyway.”
The drive to the park took about fifteen minutes. Red
kept up a lively chatter, which I relayed to Bastian in short
unrelated clips as he drove. Most of it was observation about BBQ
smells or people we passed. Occasionally, he'd crack us up with one
of his droll remarks.
When another car with a dog pulled up alongside us at
a stop light, its canine passenger started yapping frantically.
High sharp barks suggested it was a smaller dog.
“Napoleon
complex, much?”
Red snorted disdainfully, sticking his head
back out the window to bark once in response.
I laughed, and wondered again how my dog picked up
some of these references and used them so accurately. His ability
to make the association between a little, aggressive dog and a
Napoleon complex, suggested a thought process I found unbelievably
multifaceted.
While Red was occupied with passing scenery, Bas and
I talked casually about a few of the potential rental houses he had
looked at. “I eventually want to buy something,” he told me, “but
for now, a house and a six-month lease will do while I check out
the area. David will halve expenses with me, so we can get
something nice while I look around.”
“
Hey! Bug in my ear,”
Red complained behind
me. I could practically hear his ears flopping as he shook his
head. A doggy chin rested on my shoulder,
“How about a little
scratch? My ear tickles,”
he whined.
“Poor baby,” I crooned in sympathy, reaching across
my shoulder to help relieve the itching. “Better?” I asked a moment
later. “You know, if you kept your head in the car, you wouldn't
have this problem.”
I could feel the air pressure shift behind me as Red
ignored my sage advice and stuck his head out the window again.
Dogs!
“
We're close,”
Red, told me when he ducked his
head into the car for a quick report,
“I can smell the park and
the water now.”
He was dancing with excitement, looking forward
to playing with kids as much as going for a walk and investigating
new smells.
Only ten seconds later he reported,
“It’s the
wagon slide! Can we go there?”
The slide is a large twelve-foot tall Radio Flyer
wagon located in the south-central area of the park. The handle
acts as the slide down from a wagon which can support a few hundred
people. There are always kids crowding the area for a chance to
climb up the huge interactive sculpture.
“I don't see why not,” I answered, then relayed Red's
request to Bastian.
Bas laughed, “I think it’s incredible you can talk
with your dog. Sure, we'll stop on our way to the river.” He parked
in one of the many hourly public lots, rather than cruise the
street to find a curbside spot. Since I could take Bas' arm while
we walked, I clipped the leash on Red so he could explore freely
and compete in the endless game of one-upmanship male dogs played
as they marked territory.
We entered the park near the wagon, and Red
practically quivered with excitement, going so far as to tug on the
leash, which was unusual for him. “Hey, calm down,” I ordered. “No
pulling. You know better.”
“
But there are kids! Hundreds of them,”
he
exaggerated. Geez, I hope he was exaggerating.
“Oh, oh! There's
another dog like me!”
“A German shepherd?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Bas answered, “over by the bench. It’s older
than Red, with a young woman and a boy, maybe ten years old.”
“Most of the excitement is for the kids, but Red
mentioned another shepherd within sight.” I explained. “When we are
within talking distance of them, would you ask if Red can approach
their dog to say hello?”
I asked Red, “Does the other dog look receptive to a
greeting?” I retracted the leash and grasped the harness, as I
didn't want him tripping other walkers in his single-minded focus
on checking out his surroundings. He's smart, but he's still a dog.
He also knew to conduct himself professionally when I was holding
the handle.
“
Yes, she's curious too. She's protective of her
family, but she isn't aggressive, only alert.”
We must have been close enough, because Bas halted us
and spoke to the other dog's owner.
“Mandy is very friendly and gets along great with
other dogs,” the woman said. “We are getting ready to leave, but
I'm sure she'd love to meet your shepherd. He’s such a handsome
boy.”
“
Hear that Teresa? Handsome boy, that’s
me.”
Ignoring Red, I asked the owner, who identified
herself as Emily, “How old is Mandy?”
“Six. Although, she's been acting like an old lady
the past few days. Benny and I decided to bring her to the park
with us today so she could enjoy a little fresh air.”
I released the latch on the retractable leash so Red
could have freedom to approach and greet the other dog.
“She's
sick,”
Red told me with a soft, sympathetic whine.
“What's Red doing?” I asked Bas, hoping to get a clue
of what he meant by “sick.”
“He's licking her face,” Bas answered. “Now he's
cleaning her ear.”
“Can you greet Mandy and check her ears?” I
whispered. “Red says she's sick. Maybe it’s an ear infection, or
mites.”
Bas released my elbow and stepped forward to greet
the female shepherd. “Has Mandy been shaking her head or rubbing
her face against things?” he asked Emily. “Her ear canals are red
and they feel hot.”
“I've noticed her shake her head a few times today,
but I didn't think anything of it. I'll have to get her to the vet
to have this checked out.” Emily's voice dropped to a sympathetic
croon. “My poor girl, no wonder you've been so quiet lately.”
With final goodbyes, the small family wandered away.
Bastian and I sat on the bench Emily vacated and Red directed his
attention to the kids on the slide. As usual, my kid magnet was
soon covered in sticky fingers and loving every minute of the
attention.
Half an hour later, we managed to tear Red away from
the playground with promises we'd stop by the slide again before we
left the park. Bas led us to a quiet spot where we spread out our
blanket and he started pulling food from the picnic bag. While Bas
arranged our lunch, I rifled through the backpack for Red's dish
and a bottle of water, setting it on the grass a couple of feet
away from the blanket so Red wouldn't splash us with his
enthusiastic slurping. I left the half-filled bottle by his dish,
anticipating I'd probably have to refill the bowl before we were
done eating.
We enjoyed baked chicken, crunchy veggies with a
ranch dip, and an assortment of meats and cheeses. Most of the
weight had been in the bottles of flavored water Ken included for
us. We topped off our meal with homemade peanut butter cookies from
a batch I remember he’d made a few days ago. Ken must have had them
hidden somewhere secret because they would have disappeared had I
known there were any in the house. I'd have to utilize Red's
tracking skills to go on a cookie quest when we got home.
Bas cleared the blanket and stretched out on his
side, pulling me backward to sit back against the cradle of his
hips. There was clearly no sexual intent; it was simply a
comfortable position so we could talk. His hand idly stroked the
fabric of my shirt at the curve of my waist.
“Did you know it was weeks before I got Janey's
messages about your accident? I was overseas again and I think it
was the week of Christmas when I was finally able to check email. I
was in some remote areas on and off for over a month; we didn't
have computers available for personal stuff. I had over a dozen
emails from Janey waiting. The morning you were injured, she sent
me pictures of the tree struck by lightning. Damn, Teresa, there
was almost nothing left of it. Janey ended up cutting the rest of
it down for firewood.
“A day later, she emailed me pictures of the injuries
to your face. I was horrified at what you'd gone through. Janey
explained, at that time, it was expected you would probably lose
the right eye, although you had already lost sight in both. I was
so relieved when she emailed her update letting me know the doctors
were able to save it; although, it’s a miracle—the damage had been
so extensive.”
He ran his hand up and down my back, more, I think,
to comfort himself than me. “Janey let me know about every step of
your recovery. I was tempted to get leave from... err, where I was,
and come home, but she told me I would be more detrimental than
helpful. So, I followed your progress through the pictures and
letters she emailed to me.”
I relaxed more into Bastian's body, and sighed.
“She's right. I think it would have been too stressful on top of
everything else. I appreciate you were concerned, but you did the
best thing for me by not being around when I was feeling so
disoriented and defenseless.”
Red crawled onto the blanket and dropped his head
into my lap.
“I'm glad you're okay.”
I smiled and stroked
his coat. There was something comforting about thick fur, and the
warmth of the dog's weight on my legs.
Bas rested his hand against the curve of my hip. He
acknowledged quietly, “I agree it was for the best. I've had too
much frustrated anger in me. I probably would have said something
stupid the first minute I saw you.”
“You think?” I teased, looking toward him with a
grin. “You mean something stupid like what you said yesterday in
Janey's vehicle?”
He groaned dramatically and admitted, “Yeah.
Probably.”
“You wouldn't have wanted to be there. I was a wreck,
Bas. It took me a long time to get over being angry at the loss of
my sight.” I sighed as I thought back to those first few weeks. “It
was such a stupid accident. I mean, who gets hit by an exploding
tree? I was the victim of a freak mishap; it was so unfair.”
My hand must have stopped stroking because Red
head-butted my arm gently to restart the petting. I ruffled his ear
and scratched between his eyes.
“Oh, yeah,”
he uttered,
blissfully.
“I have replayed those ten seconds a thousand times
in my head, trying to imagine what I could have done differently.
What would have happened if I hadn't looked back? That's what I
think of most often, Bastian. Would it have been worse if I hadn't
been looking over my shoulder—like damage to my spine? Is blindness
the lesser of two bad results?”
Bas tightened his arm around my waist, pulling me
into a half-hug. “It’s like you said, an accident. There is no
logic, no avoidance, and no second-guessing.” He pressed a soft
kiss to my arm, the only piece of skin he could reach from his
lounging position. “I wish we had been at a point where you would
have welcomed me at your side when you were hurt.”
“Don't take this the wrong way, Bastian, but I wasn't
really welcoming anybody. I took a two month pity party vacation
and I didn't want anyone around me.” My laugh sounded forced, even
to me. “Janey wasn't having any of it, of course, but she's the
only one I wanted to talk to when I was in the hospital.”
I hugged myself as if warding off a chill. “If
nothing else, I'm so thankful my body blocked Janey. She was
probably far enough away, but the thought of her hurt has given me
a few nightmares. Another of my 'what if' scenarios.”
“I had a few nightmares myself,” Bas confessed.
I paused to consider my words, “Yesterday, I think we
reached a point where we are no longer enemies. I do not have an
irrational fear of you, and trust me I
know
it was
irrational. I kinda like you, actually. You're smart, attractive,
humorous, and you have more empathy than the young man I remember.
I think we are on the way to being friends, rather than
acquaintances.”
“Where do you get the 'attractive' from? You have no
idea what I look like anymore,” Bas protested, with a friendly bump
of his hip bone.
“Attractive isn't necessarily about good looks,
Bastian. Attraction is a quality which draws one person to another.
It could be visual, mental, physical, even emotional, but probably
a combination of different things. We both know attraction is a
relative emotion. Your voice, your confidence, and yeah, your
cockiness, as well as your loving attitude toward Janey, and your
ability to make and maintain friendships, all combine into making
you an attractive person. The more I talk with you, the more I
like
the man you've become.”
“Thank you,” he replied, softly. “Not to make
excuses, but I've behaved badly because I have been frustrated at
every turn when I’ve tried to make you stop and see me. I’ve waited
fifteen years for you, and it kills me you can never look into my
face and see the potential of me. I’ve wanted you to experience the
same epiphany I had. To look up and see a man deserving of time and
effort.”
“I do see you as a person worthy of my time.
Truthfully, though, I can't imagine I will ever get to a place
where I see you as more than a friend.” This was so hard, mainly
because I really did like this older and wiser Bas. “On one level,
I recognize how sexy you are, and I feel a pull toward you. On
another, I believe you're wasting time if you hope I will have the
revelation you're waiting for. I want to spend time with you and
hang out, but I think you need to look elsewhere for a more
romantic or physical relationship. I don't want to lead you on if
you want more than I'm willing to give.”