October is forever

I started out in October, the first month of the year- the month the leaves give their final all before falling towards crunchy, colorful, foot-induced peril. Red and orange are good colors to be, dead leaves is a good way to smell. I take my dog to the park a few blocks from my apartment and she chases them across the grass. If I were in the country I would follow her, I would take off my shoes and run next to her for as long as she could, as long as the grass would stretch before us. I envy her unshackled soul, her light heart that exists in a current reality that doesn’t. Or does, or would if I could shed the weights and find another month worth living in. It’s good to have October though. It’s good to have a dog.

My father and I waited upstairs while the woman went downstairs to get her. The woman’s name was Melva and a friend had told him she had puppies for sale. This was not the puppy I wanted and so I didn’t have much to say while we stood in Melva’s kitchen in a house by the airport. I had a shoebox in my hand that would protect this dog from the cold. My heart was heavy from the death of a friend.

“Here she is,” Melva said, emerging from the basement stairs with a bundle in hand. One hand only. She held the dog before us.

“Oh, wow!” my father said taking the puppy. He kissed her and handed her to me. It lacked a snout. It was ugly. I tried not to be rude.

“Awww….” I managed and held the puppy to my face. Maybe she would look different when she grew up. My dad didn’t care what she looked like, he just hoped she would make me happy again. I don’t know if that’s what happened. I don’t know if I was every really happy after that year’s October.

When it came time to leave, the shoebox seemed so sterile. I tucked the puppy in my coat and held her close to my chest. On the way home, I nuzzled my face in her fur to muffle my crying.

I named the dog Stosch and I fell in love- with several people since then really, but the love for the dog is the one that’s lasted. Melva died a few months later, and she would have been completely alone in that house by the airport had she not had a dog. Even in October, I can’t help but wonder if Stosch is it for me, if a dog is all that separates me from the rest of the lonely isolated population. Does drinking with the dog count as drinking alone? Even in October, the darkness can be blinding.