Write On!

              We walked to a nearby store and I sidled through the doors, grabbed
a cart and started to choose my purchases. I had planned on just a loaf of
bread, a jar of peanut butter and maybe a bone for the dog. As I walked down
the aisle, though, I found myself picking up other delicacies I had almost
forgotten existed. Cheese, sliced ham, canned fruit and vegetables all found
their way into my cart. Wondering what possessed me to do it, I topped off my
purchases with a large bag of dog kibbles. The bill came to within a couple
dollars of my twenty, but I bought it anyway. I don't know why. I didn't even
really like the darn dog, did I?
Dog met me in front of the store where he had been waiting and we
started back to our box. It was kind of nice, you know, having company while I
ate. Dog chewed on his kibbles while I feasted on all my favorite things.
Afterwards, as my coffee brewed in a tin can over a small campfire, I
rummaged through the bags to find the makings. Sitting with coffee and a
smoke, with Dog's chin on my knee, I felt happier, more centered, than I had in
months. It was some hours before I realized that I felt good and I still hadn't
had a drink.
As the autumn sky darkened and the temperature dropped, I
retreated to my sparse bed. Dog followed me and, after his canine routine of
snuffling around, curled up against my back and we slept. At least he slept.
Without the anesthesia of alcohol, I was shocked awake by the unexpected
volume of his snoring. I tried everything. I made him roll over, only to have the
noise resume as soon as he fell asleep in this new position. I pinched his nose
and he snored as powerfully through his mouth. I sent him to sleep out side
and the sound barely abated. It was hopeless.
With no sleep possible and nothing In the way of entertainment
available, I decided we might as well go for a walk. The sun was just a
promise in the sky over the river. I had not seen this hour of the morning since
drinking had taken over my life. The streets seemed softer, somehow quieter
and friendlier. So few people were out and about that they greeted others they
met. Many smiled at the sight of the ragged dog and me. I found myself
nodding to total strangers.
What was i doing? I didn't want to be awake. The only way I got
through my miserable days was to spend most of the time in an alcohol
induced sleep. The rest of the day stretched interminably in front of me.
Sinking into a morass of self- pity, my only thoughts were of methods to
dispose of my uninvited companion. Suddenly, the sound of his maniacal
barking ripped open the early morning quiet. I looked around to see him
dancing around and jumping at an older man who was trying to avoid him and
balance a load of produce on his shoulder.
" Down," I shouted at Dog, as I ran over to save the farmer.
I ' m so sorry," I said. " Are you all right? I don't know what got into
him."
Something didn't seem right. I had thought he was being attacked,
but the old gentleman was down on his knees with his arms around Dog, as if
greeting; an old friend. And Dog... he was wagging and quivering with glee, not
anger. With a firm hold on the scruffy dog, the man looked up at me with tears
in his eyes.