Most of the times, when I'm walking Oz, I'm walking a dash— a straight line. Sometimes she's an exclamation point. Other times, though, I'm walking a question mark.
That is to say, Oz walks forward, but arcs her head and forward bits off to something that really interests her. This happens fairly often when we pass something that she likes that I won't, for whatever reason, let her actually explore. A baby in arms, for example, held by someone who looks scared of dogs, or a cat that doesn't like dogs.
The other day, though, I got to walk a question mark that left me, well, questioning. We were walking along a familiar street, and no one (no favorite people, no dogs, no cats) was in sight. I checked again. No squirrels, no birds, etc. What was it?It wasn't anyone. It was missing someone. Julie, E-M-M-A's owner, moved away to go to school. Oz was bending towards where Emma was supposed to be, and bending again towards every bit of evidence that Emma used to be there. A hole under a bush? Question mark. A ratty tennis ball? Question mark. A forgotten Frisbee left on the rocks in a storm run off culvert, marked by teeth? Question mark.
Every bend toward where Emma is supposed to be, a question: where is my friend? Why isn't she here? And a period: I miss her.
We W'd on in silence.
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