What My Dog Thinks About When He Pees

Walk? My bonded companion does not heed my plea. There is no jingling jangling clanging incantation of key. Walk? Walk? Walk? He does not understand, so I put it on the floor for him to see.

Yes, BAD. Yes, NO. Yes. Walk. We ready the harness and the cord of binding to be as one in the search for the scents that need finding.

Outside, all is infernal heat, but I drag my feet even so. He wants to rush and leave no mark. I have tried to teach him, but he squanders all his inside.

That tree? Now it's ours. Same goes for that car. How else are we to claim this world in which we reside?

Inside, it's different. There are no interlopers. But outside? Well, all this could be ours. I try to show him yet again. This time, I do it slower. But all I get is 1… 2… 3… okay, okay, let's go.

He doesn't even try to smell, yet I know he means well. That's why I drag him towards a towering beast of ill repute to show him a threat we can't refute. As we approach, the interloper and his companion stand stock-still.

I will not grovel. And I will not growl. At least not until he does.

There! I fly forward with a furious flash of teeth.

I miss, carried sideways by treacherous terrain—no, the cord of binding has betrayed me. I can only watch as the interloper continues on unchecked, free to spray himself all over our domain.

Sorry about that, he thinks he's big, my companion calls.

Big, what's that even supposed to mean? It's not about size. It's about protecting that which we hold dear. And on this sweltering day of days, I am beginning to lose hope of him ever sensing such a thing.

These companions who called out to us in the wilderness, old in years but young in mind, they will not open their noses. So what can we hope to teach their kind?

Still, I do my best to stretch out this short walk, to call his attention to the kaleidoscopic wonders swirling beneath our feet. For a promising moment, our eyes lock, then he pulls out his black rectangle and all is lost.

Why can't he see or smell it? It's all around us. Like the shifting shade under the unforgiving sun, it changes shape but endures across physical forms, outlasts worlds.

Without it, there would be no us.

So I continue to make my claims, overtures and challenges combined, while he does nothing of the kind. He simply stares at his rectangle, blind to all else, foolishly letting his skin melt rather than stick out his tongue to tame the heat.

Our bond turns from tug-of-war to loosened grip, and that's when I give him the slip. Because I smell it over there, on the other side of the wide street that we don't dare to cross.

It is everywhere, but it is more so there and requires fearlessness to reach. I rush towards it, looking straight ahead as horns blare and tires screech.

He cries my name, but he cannot stop me. Winds of metal rush past and threaten to gather me in their wake. Something snatches me up and I yelp, but it is only my companion, holding me on the other side. Then, all we can do is look at each other and shake.

He sets me down.

Walk?

Okay.

We do so until the sun leaves the sky. The heat still rises from the asphalt, a balm to our renewed bond. And when he stops, I do so too without asking why. He stares up at the night, while I look down because that's where the stars truly belong.

Up and down, we sense it as one. A glistening hydrant that glows beneath the moon. Approach it carefully from all angles to see what must be done. Wait, please do. If he does, he'll sense it soon.

The cord of binding hangs loose as he steps closer. We stand upon the precipice of time, dazzlingly close to the infinite moment that drew us here. But wait. Not yet.

He does and drops down to my level, lower and lower. We must not rush, and I must give the best of myself to this momentous task as it grows near. Yes, wait. Sniff and witness what is upon us.

Yes, watch now, for the stars align and my nose does divine a heavenly scent matched to mine. When I say stars align for such a scent to match mine, I do not mean stars align in space and time but along a common desire.

When I say stars, I do not mean bright points waiting in the sky for us to find, but a god and goddess who could climb no higher. They loved one another from afar but could not touch. It became too much as eon stretched into hour.

So the god and goddess made a pact. One final desperate act. They agreed to give up their power for their greater connection. They promised to find one another then blew apart in every direction.

When gods as lovers as stars change themselves to smithereens, it is with the hope that the smallest of their parts will meet somewhere in between.

And I am one half of that hope.

A drop of what was once that god is within me, passed down from the father of my father and countless fathers before him.

And she who has left her scent here before me had a drop of the goddess, passed down from the mother of her mother and countless mothers before her.

Do not misjudge my drop's descent for it falls from a much greater height. Finally, here, on this hydrant, god and goddess unite.

And some day, when the children of our children of our children leave their scent, another god in reverse will know again what is meant.