Dogs, please pat me.
Today, I waved at a dog. Puppy dog eyes donned on the non-canine of us both- the one of us who misses the warm cuddle of their childhood pets and the smell of paws (yep, it’s that specific) -a phalange flapped in the air. Now, waving at the dog did nothing in favour of the dog approaching me; it’s not an old friend from high school, nor is it a child who just learned to wave for the first time. You’ll do crazy things to pat a dog (an act I unfortunately didn’t even succeed in).
Maybe it’s because I lost one of my childhood dogs a couple of months ago, but I yearn for the affection of a four-legged friend. Lucky for me, it’s high-risk, high-reward living in the inner city without a private backyard. The trade-off of a backyard for a community space is nothing but rewarding when looking upon the oval at Edinburgh Gardens, littered with pups playing, gleefully bolting around the grass that spans multitudes more than their allotted space in their million-dollar price tag Victorian terrace, no doubt.
Local communities seem like a mythical thing when moving to the city. From growing up in the country and almost inherently knowing many of the population, coming into a mere suburb amidst hundreds, the concept of locality and community is differently shaped.
Over a couple of years, a few moments have led to a true feeling of connection: seeing a glance of familiarity wash over the IGA shop attendant’s face when I walk in, and the sincerity in their “have a good night” at the end of the transaction. The same unacknowledged nod of familiarity in shops I frequent, for reasons such as window shopping or showing guests around the neighbourhood, always lights me up inside.
I wonder if one day any of the dogs will remember me; even if they pretended to and ran up to me happily, they’d have me fooled. Of course, I’m kidding, but it is funny to imagine me knowing a dog better than its owner.
We each find different kinds of peace in our respective neighbourhoods, places we learn to know like the back of our hands. Perhaps the hum of city traffic outside your window brings you peace, or it’s the reason you’re glad to be as far away from the CBD as possible. Maybe your barista remembers your name and your pilates instructor confidently welcomes you by name in each class. Regardless, I hope you get to pat a dog soon, or whatever small thing brings you joy.
