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all-consuming. We do a few circuits of the room, and then I get his leash and we go out and
walk up and down the halls of our building. Within five minutes he's bouncing like his old self,
the boots forgotten in the joy of being out and about. With a sudden burst of energy, he
prances around, and play-bows in front of me. Since he's not wearing his vest, he's free to
play, and I laugh at him and say "I'm gonna get you!" With this, he bounces away and comes
back, just out of reach, and bounces away again. It's our own little version of tag. He leaps
away, and I drop the leash by accident. He picks it up, and for a second I think he's going to
hand it back to me, as he's been trained to do, but then he jumps sideways and prances just in
front of me, teasing me. Laughing so hard I can't speak, I pat my side, which is our hand
signal for heel. He comes in to me, and heels, but still won't give me the leash back. Grinning,
I let him hold it, and we walk back to our room, Chester walking himself quite happily,
bouncing and tail-wagging all the way.
into the room. The next thing I hear is a crash. Walking in, I see that he's knocked over his
water dish, and is now leaving little wet pawprints all over the tile floor. Knowing he's been
careless, he looks at me, crouches, and averts his eyes, yawning, thinking I'm going to be
angry. It's all I can do to hold back the giggles and pretend to look stern, and then he looks
at me and licks his lips, throwing all the calming, submissive signals he can, and finally I can't
help it, the laughter comes pouring out. As soon as he sees that I'm not mad, he comes
running over and leans on me, wiggling with joy. I ask him to do paws up, and he puts his
paws on my chest, and I hug him as he licks my face. After a few moments of cuddling, he
gets down, and I look at my shirt, where there are two perfect wet pawprints. I smile. These
will dry and disappear, just like the ones on the floor...but the pawprints that he's left on my
heart will be there forever.
2004