by Christopher Wral
My dog likes to curl up into a donut shape on the softest surface nearest me. His preferred surface is a human bed but a couch or rug will do. My at-home workspace has a guest bed next to my desk and this is often where the dog’s naps will take place. This guest bed is where he spends the most time as a donut.
My dog will occasionally kick his leg in a thumping motion while he sleeps. This causes his whole body to bounce up and down and up to a higher plane. For brief periods of time on this earth, my dog transforms into the bouncing donut.
I recently became immobile. Bad health and surgical wounds that won’t resolve. I’m a long distance runner, but now I’m not that. So I sit and watch my increasingly energetic dog hoping he can tire himself out. Knowing he can’t.
In the past, I tried taking my dog on runs with me but he gets bored too easily. He’ll seemingly enjoy the run for about 5 minutes and then want to do something else. He’s had a similar issue on walks as he doesn’t want to repeat any route in exactly the same way. In a city using a grid system, I can weave him through different blocks to explore more of the local neighborhood.
A run along a trail offers little variation. I relate to the boredom and desire for novelty. Unfortunately, his version of novelty sometimes means pulling down an alley with a strong trash bin scent.
In many ways, I respect his refusal to accept anything less. I often wonder where he’d go without me if I didn’t keep him on a leash. How far he would go. And if he’d return.
Pompeii has a famous mosaic of a dog in a building called the House of the Tragic Poet. The mosaic says, “CAVE CANEM,” or, essentially, “Beware of the Dog.”
As much as my dog would like to think differently, generations from now won’t beware of him. Not because he won’t live forever, but because he isn’t that ferocious.
He looks to me for protection from other dogs and takes quite a while to warm up in a new dog park. Half an hour can pass with him standing at my feet before he finally finds the courage to run around. With this found courage, he’ll quietly orbit the other dogs with as little interaction as possible.
Dog parks are fine, but my dog never looks happier than when he’s sprinting at top speed.
If he reaches top speed I’m a bit more confident he’s had a good day. My apartment is too small for top speed. He tries carpet to couch to carpet to couch. But we both know it’s not top speed.
I dream of making it up to him. I want to take him to a dog store in the city.
George, a local chain, stands out with its designer choices, setting out to bring artisanal aesthetics to the realm of dog toys, and Le Marcel Bakery has a giant windowed-counter of baked goods for dogs while the owners make the treats behind the display.
If we’re ever close to one of these locations, my dog will pull inside no matter how tired he is from his running.
In my bad health I’ve felt like a monster. In this shrinking I’ve overcompensated with adorning myself with new clothes. Perhaps with enough clothes people won’t tell I’m repulsive. I bought a new striped shirt, American-made chinos, a vintage herringbone sport jacket, a raglan overcoat, and a cashmere scarf in just the right blue.
With all of my layers I essentially became a better bed for my dog. He can now donut even closer.
I recently came across a hand-painted ceramic from the Isle of Man that features an aging shepherd in a tweed green outfit sitting with a walking stick resting against his shoulder and his black-and-white dog sitting in between his legs.
As my black-and-white dog is going to live forever, he will be there to sit with me in old age. As he does now.
Regardless of the years that pass, there’s something about taking a rest from all the running around out in the world, and just sitting together. We can guard each other… one sleeps while the other keeps an eye on things.
I know there may come a time when this dynamic will run its course. When he has to look out for himself. When he’ll be forced to go into the world and befriend other dogs to survive. Perhaps the dog stores he used to go to will take pity on him and slip him a bone but I know he won’t have the cash to make that an everyday thing. He’ll have to find himself in this new freedom. And this will be a new version of himself that doesn’t involve separation anxiety from me.
I imagine he’d remain a city dog instead of heading for the woods. He can only change so much.
There’s an interpretation of the CAVE CANEM mosaic that it was meant as a joke… the dog in the mosaic is featured in a play bow and doesn’t look all that ferocious itself. I’d like to commission a mosaic called Beware of the Bouncing Donut.
The runs may have been the happiest, but resting near each other brings us both to a higher plane.
Christopher Wral is a writer in San Francisco. His website is christopherwral.com.