Brief Companionship

The day was like this: a muted white sky morning, almost raining. As my friend and I walked up the canyon together, a dog wandered from the yard of his house and began to follow us.

"Go home!" we shouted, to no avail. He followed us all the way up to the rocky place that was our destination, watched for a while from a distance as we sat and talked, then came and rested at our feet. He was a big oafish sort of dog, a little intrusive and inappropriately devoted, but I began to like him.  He had a wet wool smell and a somber face. He got nothing from us but still stayed. It was nice to feel so readily accepted, nice to know we didn't disappoint.  He followed us back as far as his own house, where he detoured up his driveway without a glance back.