KENDRICK
My house is technically on campus, though right at the very edge. I’m across the street from a beautiful park that’s always filled with students and townsfolk alike. Glensdale is a very pet-friendly area, so there are also a lot of dogs in the park.
I’ve always taken morning walks for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I run… Okay, run might be too strong a word. Sometimes I jog. It’s as much as I do to keep in shape, and while I’m not breaking any fitness records for a man nearing a half-century in age, I’m decently trim.
Before I had Martha, I’d alternate walking around campus and walking through the park. Walking through the park is what inspired me to adopt Martha. You rarely meet someone with a dog who doesn’t have a smile on their face.
Quite frankly, the loneliness of my life was setting in. I needed some companionship. One morning, I was feeling particularly alone, and a golden retriever broke free from her owner’s hold and came barreling at me. I heard the woman yelling for the dog, and I thought I’d have to help her catch the dog. But the sweet muffin stopped and kissed me. Bounced all over me like she knew I needed some love that morning.
I’m not entirely convinced that I believe in signs, but that sweet dog convinced me I needed a golden retriever. Within a week, I’d adopted Martha in a nod to the dog who bombarded me with love—named Snoop. There is no better duo, right?
There’s no policy against the public walking through campus with their dogs as long as they clean up after them. However, I tend to walk Martha around the park so she can interact with other dogs if she chooses.
This morning is no different, though our walk is a little later than usual. I’m due in front of my office building at quarter to eight. Our bus to LAX leaves promptly at eight. I’m almost as anxious as I am excited.
I renewed my long-expired passport just for this trip. It’s been a long time since I traveled anywhere. Not just out of the country but out of California. Hell, I haven’t even been to Los Angeles in… years.
When was the last time I’d driven down to Anaheim to visit my kids?
Martha pauses to sniff the leg of a bench, and I shake my head to force the thoughts away. Right now, I need to be thinking only about this trip. It’s going to be a great time. I’m super excited about it. Not just for what it could mean for both universities and the LGBTQIA+ community as a whole, but also for me.
It’s forcing me to stop sitting at home and acting as if the best years of my life are behind me. I contrived the very first whispers of this program one evening while I mused about how mundane and dull my life was. How empty it had become.
Interestingly, I didn’t long to rekindle and attempt to repair my relationship with my wife and kids. In equal measure, I knew I needed to divorce Natalia, as well as find something I’m passionate about that forces me to live again. Martha gave me companionship, and I no longer felt entirely alone. Therewas someone to come home to, and that’s been exactly what I needed.
However, I was still living a shell of the active life I’d had when I moved to Glensdale. I used to go out on the town, play pool, socialize, and host gatherings. I’m not sure when the last time I’d done any of those things was.
Martha stops to bump noses and sniff asses with a bull terrier. I exchange small talk with the owner while they do, and wave goodbye when Martha is ready to move on.
We wander along the path for quite some time before I lead Martha home again. Seth is in the kitchen when we come inside, and Martha immediately begins bouncing in excitement to see him. A smile splits Seth’s face as he leans down to scratch her ears and give her morning loves.
I wash my hands and then head for the door. “You have everything you need?” I ask.
Seth meets my eyes, amused. “You’re the one leaving the country. Doyouhave everything you need?”
His playfulness makes my chest warm. “I guess we’ll see.”
He nods. “Same. Martha and I will be fine.”
I look at Martha sitting on his feet, trying to move backward as if she could get closer to him. “You be good.”
There’s a chance I say the same words to her every time I leave the house. With them, she leaves Seth and leans against my legs, her silent plea not to leave her. I rub her neck for a minute. “Be a good girl, okay?”
Gently, I push her forward and sling my backpack over my shoulder. My suitcase is already just inside the door. “Thank you,” I tell Seth. “I appreciate your being here to watch Martha.”
He nods. “No problem. Good luck on your mission.”
“Thanks.” I hesitate when I open the door. “Love you, son.”
Seth smiles, still amused. “Love you, too, Dad.”
How often do people return that verbal exchange and not mean it? I would wager a guess it’s far more common than people would like to admit.
Nope. Time to focus on CAP. This is going to be great.
My walk to my office, door to door, is eight minutes. I have a designated parking spot that I use maybe once a week. Not because I have a lazy day once a week, but otherwise my car would sit for months at a time without being started. It’s for the health of my car. Last year, I drove a total of 341 miles between yearly oil changes.
Hmm, I wonder if that’s what made me realize that my life had become so empty.
