Well, this is my first blog post. Ever. Of all time. I’m going to skip the whole droning question of “What should I talk about?” entirely and leap head first into exactly what I did today:

Puppy-sit. You know, like baby-sit, only in canine fashion. And that particular form of canine just happened to be husky… A nameless, husky pup and his mother, Sakari. Life has always been cat-oriented until recently a couple of family friends decided I would be the perfect match to look after these two unbelievably brilliant creatures.

The entire day was devoted to my companions: From running around in the snow, watching the sunset, lounging to the Beatles and to, of course, the usual chat about life. It was a puppy therapy session. From the early afternoon what would normally be hours of lounging away in a peeling Victorian-style apartment instead were dedicated to gnawing teeth and doughy ears. No-name pup stayed fast asleep for the entire forty-five minute car ride from Providence. And the second we hit the Mt. Hope Bridge, the born-and-raised Tiverton husky mama began running laps in my cramped 2003 Hyundai Accent­; ears pointed, licking her anxious doggy chops for her own sanity. Yes, we’re almost home!

Let me just say, for those of you that have not had the pleasure of experiencing both, driving with a dog in the car is quite evidently the polar opposite of driving with a cat. About half of the anxiety is hushed– not only by the lack of howling meows, but the replacement of such with happy, anxious pants. Of course my backseat is still covered with wiry, grey hairs, but that is beside the point. And, even after the tedious venture, my car is still 100% not soaked in cat urine! Can you believe it?

If they had thumbs, I’m sure Sakari and her pup would have opened my own car door and walked me to the front door. Talk about dogs with manners: I mean, even the five-month-old soul waited for me to walk up the snowy driveway before patiently sitting at the front door with his mom. Treats were given, bellies were rubbed, and naps were taken on the wooden floors of the rustic Captain’s Quarters. I couldn’t believe the size of this place: From aged treasures from under the sea, to millions of records, knick-knacks, paintings and decades of signs, this house was out of a fairytale that which me and the dogs belonged to. More importantly, a fairytale that Sakari and the pup knew so well, and I still had much to find out.

It sounds silly, but even for the short amount of time I realistically spent with these two animals, I learned more about dogs than I have in my entire lifetime. I wouldn’t have even flinched if Sakari started talking to me like a human– she looked at me with that much intensity. It isn’t that I’ve ever had anything against dogs… I just thought it was remarkable because I’ve never had the pleasure of being around one consistently. Really, I have only experienced dogs in moderation. They’ve just never been around as much as I’ve wanted them to be.

And, it wasn’t until that day did I realize dogs have more human tendencies than in certain folks that I’ve met: more common sense, more feelings, and certainty more entertainment than your-average-shmoe. As a barista, I have a lot of people who talk to me as if I am a word-processing cyborg that spits out the action put in (with a small fee of $2.56). That being said, even Sakari didn’t lose her temper when she was telling me she had to go out and do her business. I absolutely love my job, but it is no secret that sometimes truly I have to swallow my pride when someone responds to my “Hi, how are you?” with “Small black tea. Hot.”

At the end of the day I felt as though I had full conversations, hundreds of flashbacks, about a millions laughs and I barely had to speak a word (Although they did understand their names, “No,” and of course, “Treat?”).

I’m sure it won’t be long until I see those familiar faces again– mouths gaping open, eyes blinded by the sun.