crisp, a hint of winter on the way, layered with the spicy, singular aroma of fallen leaves, that crisp and
earthy tone that hails the autumn. Chester is exuberant, bouncing after a long day, while I am sleepy,
languorous, at peace. I sit on a bench under a grandfather tree, one so tall and old that it's presence can
be felt, ancient as the earth, timeless. I take off his vest, and Chester is instantly all dog, nose to the
ground, racing circles around me while I sit and smell the scents of autumn under the gracious moon.
Leaves crackle under his feet, and his buoyant playing kicks them into the air, where they flutter for a
moment before alighting gently back on earth. Everything is golden, bathed in low ambient light, the
brown leaves underfoot acquiring an almost unearthly glow, heaven on earth and God in all. A gentle
breeze blows with a hint of bite, warning of winter to come, but saying now to be content as there still is
time to play. Chester has worn himself out, and comes to lay at my feet. I watch him quietly, thinking only
how beautiful he is, what a gloriously beautiful and noble creature...the golden light caresses his fur,
catching highs and lows, lights and darks, shimmering with the gentle motion of his breathing. I watch his
ears prick and swivel as he listens to the night sounds; he is alert but not tense. He looks up at me, his
brown eyes warm, relaxed, and I smile at him. Such a beautiful creature. My dog. My heart. He stares at
me, his eyes speaking volumes, and then stands and licks my hands, my face as I bend down to him and
wrap my arms around him. I could not dare but love him, the earnest ways in which he tries to please me,
to help me; his never-failing trust of me; the all-consuming goodness of him. Animals must have souls;
anyone who has experienced their pure, conditionless love could do little but come to that conclusion. My
heart hurts with the love I have for him, and brings tears to my eyes... I love him so much. And all I give
to him is mirrored right back for me.
After a long moment, I rise and we get ready to leave. He picks up his vest from where it has lain on the
bench next to me, and places it into my hands. I open it up and he slips his head into the strap, and stands
quietly while I buckle it around his belly. Then he hands me the leash, his tail wagging, ready for a new
adventure. Oh, to be so happy with life, to await with eagerness even the mundane... I wonder if he knows
that it's time to go inside and get ready for tomorrow, and then bed... Even though the fun is over for the
night, he doesn't complain, there is no disappointment there. Just a zest for life and eagerness to move
on that sometimes astounds me. He lives in the moment, he truly does. I gather the leash and we walk
together back home, life intruding again on something that seemed, however brief, truly otherworldly.
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