On the roof of the multi-story car park is a sign, outlined against the sky, where white clouds pass. It reads: PAY HERE.
Picture. A cat, mostly white, with a large marmalade patch, sits prettily on a front doostep. Next to it is an empty milk bottle.
In the Grove, I meet Giles whose house overlooks the corner of the little park. He is with his small son and his dog. The dog has two leads attached to it. Giles is holding one. The little boy hangs on to the other. "One last sniff," says Giles to the child and the dog. "We're learning how to walk dogs," he says to me.
A few years ago, when I was still in college and staying at home, I used to walk my uncle's dog, a large handsome german shepherd. He'd been left with us for a couple of months. The dog was so large n powerful that in truth, it was he who was walking me, though I held the leash. But the best part was that people, most of them strangers, would stop to chat me up on the road - something that never happened when I walked alone... most wanted to know how I was handling the huge creature! He was a gentle dog really...
Thanks, Rashmi, for that story. We had a dog once, a cavalier King Charles, not really the sort of dog you boast about. But I suddenly remember walking it in the park of a country house one moonlit evening, and loving the carefree way it ran in and out of the shadows.
And thank you, Lucy, for the smile.
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