Yesterday, a dog

Yesterday, a dog made me happy.

I walked outside to get my mail. I don't go outside all that often on days when I don't have to be anywhere; as I've said before, I have this irrational fear that my neighbors probably all think I'm an agoraphobic drunk.

A couple of my neighbors were talking intently--one trying to explain to the other what his Medicare statement meant. The gentleman who was confused by his mail is quite elderly and not in great health, and he has this wonderful ancient dog that accompanies him everywhere.

She is an Australian Shepherd or some kind of mix of one, with mismatched, floppy ears that only go up once in a while. She also has this mysterious dent in her forehead. It doesn't look like it hurts or came from an injury, so I surmise maybe she was just born that way. I was able to pet her once before, probably a year ago, but I had to really beckon her over; she was timid and only stayed long enough for a perfunctory pet.

Yesterday, the second my feet hit the porch, she saw me and absolutely LIT UP. Her ears went up and she literally galloped over to me like I was a big juicy steak with her name on it. I didn't know this dog had any gallop left in her--she is usually quite meek, plodding along with her person. I don't think I'd seen her put her ears up before, either.

I just couldn't stop smiling at her. I bent down to rub her ears and tell her how pretty she was for a minute or two. She eventually got bored with that and decided to run circles around me while I got the mail, returning to her person's side. The neighbors were still immersed in conversation and hadn't noticed anything the dog had done. I paused when I got back to the porch and looked back at her, and she pricked up her ears and looked at me like she was ready to do it all again if I would just come down the stairs.