The Neighbor’s Dog (5-minute blog)

(5-minute blog)

I am not sure what tense to use at this point, so I will say “my neighbors have a dog” until further notice.

I say this because I am not sure if they still have a dog or not, but I like to think positively.

This dog, like the neighbors, is sweet. Nice, friendly, patient. He has never barked at our two dogs, who are committed to barking at any dog they see, ever, always. When our dogs bark from the deck, while glaring at him, he sits calmly and looks from the other side of the fading fence. It is almost as if he embraces the interaction.

I typically see my neighbors walk him on a regular basis. In fact, I sometimes attempt to spy on them to determine if they are yet on a walk, so we can avoid them on ours. The barking and all.

But, I have not seen him on a walk in about two weeks at this point. Our dogs have not witnessed his patrolling of the yard next door, proven by their out of the norm quasi silence. 

The “beware of dog” sign still hangs from their wooden gate, like a ghost of sorts, but no sign of the protector.

I am not shattered, but saddened by this. I had never met or petted the dog, but I felt like he was a good one. Most are, if not all. I feel sad for the human neighbors, if in fact their dog is no longer with them. I, luckily, can only imagine how that might feel. I can only imagine taking down that sign, hands wobbly. It would likely hang in perpetuity. 

It is a strange feeling, feeling sad for someone or something you never met. But we all have felt it. Each time I walk out onto my back deck, which overlooks the neighbor’s yard, I take a peak over for the once daily sighting of the dog next door. The sweet, quiet, good boy. The boy who would bring out his favorite toy, in hopes that somehow we could play with him, from across that fence.

I have not caught a glimpse in some time, and I am afraid I never will again. I can’t help but be sad. I can’t help but think of the inevitable. 

But I shall hold out hope.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)