ETAN! she calls down,
You’re back!
and she lowers a small wicker basket
tied to an old clothesline.
When it reaches me, the basket
has a few coins inside.
I trade the roast beef for the coins,
and she hoists it back up.
I look for her dog in the window,
and as I turn to leave, she calls,
HEY, can you walk Buddy for me, Etan?
I nod, but I am so happy
that I also jump up and down a little.
With some yelping and whining
the dog gets into the basket,
and she slowly lowers him down to me
along with a leash and a small plastic bag.
The dog spins around in the basket,
his bushy tail everywhere,
and at the last moment
lets out a bark and leaps into my arms,
licking my face, his white-and-brown fur
soft on my cheeks, his paws squarely
on my shoulders. Hey, Buddy, I say,
Hey, good Buddy, and I hug him back.
Dogs are so easy to talk to.
I set him down, and we head toward the park.