Bewilderment

-

HE DROPPED A GLASS BOWL on the kitchen tiles. It shattered into pieces. One sliver cut his bare heel as he jumped back. A year ago, he would have spun out in tears or rage. Now he simply grabbed his hurt foot and held it in the air. Oh, snap! Sorry, sorry! After we washed and bandaged him, he insisted on sweeping up his mess. A year ago, he wouldn’t have known where to find the broom.

“Impressive, Robbie. Like you’re coming at this whole life thing with a totally different game plan.”

He burrowed a slo-mo fist into my soft underbelly and laughed. Actually? It’s kind of like that. Old Robin would be all: Waaah! He pointed up at the ceiling. New Robin is up there, looking down on the experiment.

He tented his hands in front of his lips. It was the funniest gesture, like he was channeling Sherlock Holmes. Like he and I were old dudes, reflecting on the long and winding road that had deposited us in front of a fireplace in the common room of an assisted living facility. Remember how Chester would tear up a book or pee on the carpet? You couldn’t really get mad at him because, he was just a dog, right?

I waited for him to complete the thought. But it turned out the thought was already complete.