Passing with our own places to go and our own things to do
We pass each other often lately; always in opposite directions. Those eyes! We stop and stare at one another. Something passes between us: an acknowledgement or recognition; I don’t know which! Red Dog no longer runs away from me. He doesn’t see me as a threat. After what seems like an extraordinarily amount of time he continues on his way, as do I. I feel we have made a connection.