A Boy And A Dog

The trip ended at the Burbank airport. Dan was waiting and I got my hugs. Dan is my number 4 child, my number 3 son. He towers above me, has for some years, with a smooth flair of very black hair on his jaws, like a wave gently sweeping over a shallow sand beach. I admire the black color - I had that once, probably where his came from. We missed the train, it is a block from the airport and very convenient for commuters, but it comes every hour so we had time to chat - about the sunset because of the recent and ongoing wildfires, about my impending computer a gift from all my kids, about food because it was about time to eat (when isn't it time to eat?), about the powerful engines of planes taking off overhead, and about the snazzy Boeing plane I arrived in decorated with the special anniversary the company is celebrating.
Then Ashton unlocked the door and I called out "I am here." Wow! was I surprised! A whirlwind of snarling canine accosted me. A weird welcome that, I must say. So I backed off, not in fear but in amazement because that dog was no bigger than a slick cat. Debbie picked him up, the offshoot of the Doberman family, and told him to behave himself, cuz he was going to see a lot of me for ten days.
I was treated with hospitality, food service and gentle conversation so Fido studied me and all those ramifications. I watched his eyes and could tell he was processing all the information to judge me. Finally I put my elbows on the back of the couch and leaned over to him. He slithered up to me from his regular spot and licked me a real welcome. I passed the ancient wolf test, I was one of the family. I reached my destination.
Naomi Sherer