The dog at the supermarket has told me so many things

I was walking in the early morning of a Sunday. It was making twenty-eight degrees or something, and I decided to shop at the supermarket down the corner. I saw this little guy, bouncing his tail, while his dog-collar was arrested to an iron bar of the parking lot. He was down the shadow, but his tongue could tell he was hot. I step by next to him, careful to see if he was gonna bite me or bark, but he was just excited to see me and that I gave him attention. I sat down, legs crossed, just like a buddha, and pet him for a while. I couldn’t tell how much time did I spent there, but it felt like not much. And then, just when I was saying goodbye to him and taking my hand off his neck, he started to whimper, with this thin bark. “Oh, come on, little fella”, I said to him, “I’m sure that your mommy or daddy will be just right over, ok?”, but he kept looking at me with his big black eyes, in despair. “He must be buying you some big toys and big bones, you know? I’m sure he will be here at any moment”, and started to pet him again. At this point, I was assuming that he has a male owner, just because his collar seemed too masculine to some old lady or woman to put it. It has this military print. I haven’t got into the supermarket yet, and it was becoming too hot —
my thighs were sweating. But I felt like I couldn’t get there and leave him alone again — I felt the weight of disappointment coming from his eyes. I felt like, if he gets alone again by someone, he will drown in this big pool of sorrow, the monster of abandonment laughing at his face. I could just wait until his owner shows up and then go shopping, but it was silly, on the other hand. I’m sure I could get over this weird feeling and leave this dog on the parking lot, attached to the iron bar, just like the way he was before I came. But I couldn’t. “Well, you won. I’ll wait, ok? You don’t need to look at me like this anymore.” And then he backed his head on my leg and start licking it. It tickled at the beginning, but I would feel bad if I made him stop. And then we wait for a while. He gave me some quick looks, like to make sure I was still there. I started to fantasize he was my dog from a long time, that we have lived so many years together, that I forgot how many socks he has chewed and how many Christmas tree he has destroyed. I could see him pulling over the balcony in the kitchen and steal some piece of cake. It was awkward, but I was already connected to this furry guy and his big black eyes. It’s weird how humans can get touched so fast and let into this. I was not armed when I first got here, I just let me get involved with this dog of some stranger, who already has a history with his owner. It is like when you’re on a date, and the guy in front of you has been through a lot of relationships, and he knows that he might get hurt again and get caught crying in the men’s bathroom, but he stills rather take the risk instead of staying at his home, forever. I’m already attached to this dog like I was to my first dog, who had lived with me for 11 years, and then hit by a car in 2008. It felt like the worst pain in my life and I swore to myself I’d never love any other dog again. And here I am, letting a stranger dog drool all over my leg, promising him protection eternal. Doesn’t it feel weird, how humans can connect so quickly, and so deep, if you let yourself to, and then complies to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law? Isn’t it funny how humans can be faithful, to whatever they decide to believe? And that can be anything. Even a parking lot dog.
I was so deep in thoughts that I haven’t felt the dog getting up from my lap and bounce his tail again. His owner — who actually was a woman, over 40s, I think — was getting closer and closer. “Well, it seems that you have done a friend, Soldier?”, she said while I was getting up, feeling cramps. So the dog was called Soldier. Humf. How creativity. I smiled at the lady the best I could to minimize the embarrassing situation, which is found your dog with a stranger in the parking lot. I pet Soldier for more two seconds or something and waved goodbye. He seemed as he never knew me or gave any tip that he would miss me, while his tail happily swung through the concrete, with his owner aside. I felt used. Worse of that, I felt betrayed. I mean, to whom Soldier had whimper for being alone twenty minutes ago? To whom Soldier looked deep into the eyes, looking for compassion? I felt silly. And sad. The monster of abandonment laughing right behind me. But that was life. The sentiment was not mutual and I’d get over that. I’ve been through much worse. And just like Soldier, I bounced my tail on the parking lot, ready for some other dog who I could pet.
