I love you, he said

It’s a lovely summer evening. Maggie, my lovely dog, insists she needs to go out. I get her things and we embark on a walk in the warm summer evening. It’s after 11 pm, so there is a gentle breeze. Delightful.


On our way to the corner, she sees two men crossing towards us at the light. One of them looks at Maggie. She looks back. There are people she choses to meet, and tonight, he was the one. She walks right up to him as he and his friend arrive on our side of the street. Without a thought, he kneels down and smiles.

After petting her, he looks into Maggie’s eyes and says,  “I love you.” Just like that. It isn’t too soon, there is no uncertainty and he doesn’t need to sleep on it. He knows. Just like that. He knows that it’s really, really easy to fall in love. It wasn’t his plan. He was probably just going for beers with his friend.

Maggie loves him, too. She puts her front paws on his knee, which is conveniently on the sidewalk, and kisses him right on the mouth. Sealing the deal. He smiles. Maggie does, too, in her doggie way. They are having a moment, like a scene from a romantic comedy. It has nothing to do with me or with his friend. We both stand by and watch the sparks fly.

After the long lingering looks, he realizes that it has been a while. He gets up suddenly, acts cool and pats her one more time. Then, he and his friend walk away – never acknowledging me at all.

If  Maggie has people say “I love you” on first meeting, she’s  increasing the love on the planet by just being here. That’s okay with me. Every time I take her for a walk, I realize I’m the bringer of the love, and it’s not a bad job to have.