I always knew Golden Retrievers were friendly, but this Golden takes it to a whole other level.
“Hi, bud.” I drop my bag by the door and crouch to greet him properly.
He pushes his weight into me without hesitation, leaning so hard I have to brace my hand against the floor to keep from falling over.
I chuckle and press a kiss to the top of his head. “Should we go for a run?”
He answers with a jump into the air, his hind end seeming to move in the opposite direction of his front end in a goofy, disjointed hop, which he repeats a few more times, twisting around to show his immediate agreement.
“Alright,” I say, pushing to my feet. “Just wait one sec.”
I head into my room to change into my running gear, and when I come back out, Winston is eagerly sitting at the door with his eyes locked on the leash that hangs from the hook beside him.
“Patience is not your thing,” I mutter with a smile as I grab his leash and clip it to his collar.
We do this every day, often more than once, yet somehow, every single time feels like a brand-new event to him. Just the sight of the door opening is enough to make his entire body vibrate with joy. Hehasto be the happiest dog on the planet, I swear. Even when people in the elevator glance past him, despite his best efforts to gain their attention, or when someone walks by us on the street without stopping to say hello like he thinks everyone should, he’s unbothered. If these things do happen, he’s inheaven. But if they don’t, the walk is still the best thing ever.
Which, honestly, is why I brought him home in the first place. I had no plans to get a dog. Since I live downtown and work full time, it never even crossed my mind. Until I visited afriend outside of the city one weekend, and her mom’s dog had puppies. And he was the last one left. They said people kept passing him over because one of his ears flopped differently than the other. But he never stopped smiling. He was a little different, but he wasn’t broken. And I couldn’t leave him. So he came home with me that day, and we’ve been best buds ever since.
We start our run through the downtown streets, weaving through the early evening crowd. Winston jogs beside me with his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging as he tries his best to make eye contact with every single person we pass. And there are a lot. It’s just after 5:00 PM on a Friday, and the sidewalks are full of office workers heading home, talking into headsets or laughing with friends, loosening their ties and pulling off heels as they settle into restaurants and pubs to kick off the weekend.
By the time we finish our usual loop and turn into Grange Park, Winston’s energy is still going strong. I unclip his leash at the gate of the off-leash area, and he quickly runs to play with a husky, immediately inserting himself in everyone’s business.
I take a seat on one of the large rocks near the fence, catching my breath as I pull out my phone. One missed call from Mom lights up the screen, so I tap her name and lift the phone to my ear.
“Hi!” Mom’s cheerful voice comes through the speaker after a couple rings.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, watching as a bulldog mix joins the play, and Winston’s head nearly explodes from excitement as he spins himself in a circle.
“You sound like you’re out for a run,” she says, and I hear the faint clatter of dishes in the background.
“Yeah, just finished. At the dog park now.”
Mom chuckles. “I bet he’s having fun.”
“You know it,” I laugh as the three dogs run past me.
“I was just calling to check in,” she continues. “I’m cleaning up from supper, and your father’s outside working on the yard with Keigan.”
“Keigan’s home?” I ask, sitting back on the rock. “I thought he was moving into his new place in Summerside this weekend.”
Mom sighs. “Yes, he is. But apparently he needs a bed, and wants to take the one from his room here.”
I laugh. “What happened to his from school? Isn’t he just moving everything from his apartment in Halifax?”
“I don’t know,” she says, exasperation lacing her tone. “I can’t keep up with that boy. First, he was going to take a job in New Brunswick, then he was looking out west, and now he’s settled on this kinesiologist position in Summerside. And I guess somewhere along the way, he sold his bed.”
“Sounds about right,” I say, stifling my laugh. Honestly, I’m not surprised.
“And I’m not letting him take this one. So he’s doing a weekend of chores to fund a new one.”
“Ah,” I say with a smile. “Now that makes sense.”
“So how are you?” Mom asks. “How’s work?”
“Good. Busy,” I say, my gaze drifting over the park and all the dogs playing. “We’ve been rolling out a new model to track regional disruptions in client supply chains. It’s a lot of backend work, but once it’s built, it should make everything more stable long-term, which I’m pretty pleased about.”
Mom chuckles. “I’ll pretend like I understand that and say good for you.” She pauses for a moment. “Do you think you’ll make it home this summer?” she asks hopefully.
