Dog story

Before school was out for the summer, I ended up behind the school bus a few mornings each week. There are several “no outlet” streets in our neighborhood, so the bus will often stop at the beginning of the road to pick up the gathered children instead of venturing down each narrow country cul-de-sac. I began to notice patterns for each group: the parents that drive their kids to the end of the road as opposed to those who walk; the mom that goes with her little girls up the bus doors every day, hugging them and straightening their backpacks as they board; the little “thanks for waiting” wave she gives me while heading back to her own car.

But of all these observations, my favorite is the shaggy dog.

The first cul-de-sac stop picks up 3-4 kids, and at least two of them are siblings. One clue is that they stand together, and the other is the shaggy little dog sniffing around beside them. He investigates the ditches and bushes as the children wait, but jumps to attention as the bus approaches. He bounds after them as they walk to the door, circling their feet as they board. The bus pulls away and he, proud to have gotten them off on another days’ adventure, trots stalwartly homeward.

I picture their mom glancing out the window as he trots into the yard each day. Whether she’s busy washing dishes or feeding a baby or gathering up her briefcase and keys, his loyal appearance assures her that her children are safely on their way.

The unconditional loyalty of that little dog assures me that if anything were to happen to those kids, one of two things would happen: he would not leave their side, protecting them with all his shaggy might, or he would run home as fast as he could to bring help. I imagine the tightening in their mother’s chest if he didn’t come back, her thoughts of “what happened?”

I’m sure there are days when he’s distracted by a squirrel or an interesting smell, but I’m also sure he makes a priority of getting home. He’s got the rest of the day to explore and play. At seven each morning he’s there to send them off, and I’m sure that at four he’ll be there to walk them home.