Yesterday was a holiday in our country. Uma and I went into the office, as is our routine, but called it quits at three thirty. Considering the best way to spend the remainder of the day, I decided upon a nearby lake. We often go there to hike the paths through the surrounding hills and forests. The weather was perfect, cool, but not so cold to require a coat, with a slight breeze to rustle Autumn’s notes and chords on the dry foliage. The sun shone brightly through the scarce drifting clouds, cutting sharp swaths of light through the contrasting shadows cast by the trees and bushes. We hiked upwards, Uma foraging ahead, regularly stopping to look back at her lumbering, two-legged companion. We had the landscape mostly to ourselves, encountering only a cowherd and his languorous bovine throng. As we forged on, Uma became more animated, athletically leaping through the underbrush and resolutely following compelling scents through the rusty grass. Occasionally, I would call her to me and position her against a backdrop of burnt orange and russet leaves for an impromptu photo session. Half way through our hike, we reached one of our habitual landmarks: an oblong, dried-up pond in a small valley. Uma rushed to the pond’s centre and proceeded to race across the cracking, muddy surface like a Greyhound at the track. Not for the first time, I marvelled at the simplicity and self-sufficiency of her joy, requiring of me only that I be there and observe. After an hour and a half of hiking, we descended to the lake proper, where Uma swam herself clean. As we walked away from the lakeshore, Uma’s gait slowed, her shoulders crouched and her head pointed purposefully ahead. I followed her gaze to a white and brown stray trotting in our direction. Startled, I began to call Uma to my side, but then recognised the stray as familiar playmate whom we regularly encounter. Uma bounded forward to her canine friend and the two rollicked and roughhoused around me as I guided our pack in the direction of the parking lot. When we arrived at the car, Uma reluctantly climbed up into the back seat among her towels and blankets. I opened the trunk and scooped up some kibble to leave our smiling escort. Driving home, Uma was curled up and sleeping even before we got out of the parking lot.
Posted on: Wed, 15 Oct 2014 09:48:06 +0000
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