There’s comfort in believing you are truly known and understood. Accepted for who you are. It’s the meeting of minds that happens when, you pause in the middle of a sentence and your listener finishes your thought perfectly, so in tune were they.
Pettigrew believes we share a similar level of communication.
Out for a walk he pauses, nose twitching, body alert.
Unfortunately, he overestimates my abilities.
Although I too pause as if we are on the same page, appreciating the same sensations, I am flummoxed.
Why are we stopping? I haven’t a clue.
Is he catching the whiff of a fox or other wild animal?
Does he want to cross the street?
Is he tired and ready to turn back home?
It would be nice if Pettigrew gave a hint.
Last night was a beautiful, bracingly cold evening. All went well until we turned the corner. Pettigrew froze.
I took a few, tentative steps forward. He stumbled along behind me.
I took a few, tentative steps back the way we had come. He did a brisk about face and trotted into the lead.
Could he have turned his head or otherwise indicated that he wanted to go back? Apparently not.
Perhaps what he was really after was that moment of understanding, when I showed I knew him and his desires, that I could read his mind.