My son, Holden, strapped his GoPro to our dog, Tucker, and we let him run around the park. We joked about the lame footage that would be on the camera once we reviewed it: Tucker biting at my son's bike tires and eating clumps of snow.
When we got to the top of the hill, a young boy seemed to appear out of nowhere. He called out to us, asking if Tucker was a German Shepherd. I asked if he wanted to meet him. He quickly said yes and ran over to us. As he got closer, I noticed that he was just wearing tennis shoes and the snow was already thickly caked onto his laces. On his upper body, he simply wore a thin rain jacket and a puffy vest. When he removed his hands from his pockets he wasn't wearing any gloves. He asked to throw Tucker's snowy ball anyway. The icy ball stung his fingers and he shook them for the warmth to return. I asked him where his gloves were. He said his mom still needed to buy him some. He said he just keeps his hands in his pockets. I asked if he wanted to wear my gloves. He took one look at my coral, polka-dotted fleece gloves and declined. After two more throws of the ball, I asked him again. This time, he wasted no time slipping the coral, polka-dotted fleece gloves on to his fingers.
He asked me what time it was. He said the library opened at noon today and he was going to spend his day there, but was waiting for it to open. Would I tell him when it opened, he asked me. He was so gentle and sweet and genuine. He asked us a lot of questions about Tucker. We asked him if he had a dog. He paused and stared at Tucker, his eyes not leaving the dog. "I had a pitbull. I used to run around the house with her and she would never get tired." He bent down and began to pet Tucker gingerly. I asked if he still had his dog. He stood upright, still looking at Tucker, his voice lower now. "No, when the police kicked down our door, she was the first to run downstairs. The cop was scared and shot her in her face and in her jaw."
We all got quiet then. Holden broke our silence by asking the boy if he wanted to throw the ball again for Tucker. He did. Holden and I had not planned on being at the park for that long. I was beginning to feel the cold in my feet. Tucker was getting worn down, so much so that he lay in the snow, panting.
We made small talk with him until we knew the library was open and he could go inside and get warmed. When I told him we were heading home, he looked down at the gloves on his hands. He slowly brushed the snow from them, as if to ensure he returned them in the same non-snowy manner he received them. "Will you keep those for me?" I asked him. "It would make me feel better if you kept them." He looked down and grinned and said "Yes."
We put the leash on Tucker and said goodbye to the boy. I thanked him for helping us wear Tucker out. "We couldn't have done it without you", I told him. We began to walk in opposite directions, he toward the library, and Holden and I down the hill. Neither Holden nor I said anything for a long time. Then, Holden broke our silence by saying "Imagine having your door kicked in by the police and your dog shot. Imagine not having gloves. Not having gloves."
Then we talked about how very sweet the boy was, despite it all.
When we got to the top of the hill, a young boy seemed to appear out of nowhere. He called out to us, asking if Tucker was a German Shepherd. I asked if he wanted to meet him. He quickly said yes and ran over to us. As he got closer, I noticed that he was just wearing tennis shoes and the snow was already thickly caked onto his laces. On his upper body, he simply wore a thin rain jacket and a puffy vest. When he removed his hands from his pockets he wasn't wearing any gloves. He asked to throw Tucker's snowy ball anyway. The icy ball stung his fingers and he shook them for the warmth to return. I asked him where his gloves were. He said his mom still needed to buy him some. He said he just keeps his hands in his pockets. I asked if he wanted to wear my gloves. He took one look at my coral, polka-dotted fleece gloves and declined. After two more throws of the ball, I asked him again. This time, he wasted no time slipping the coral, polka-dotted fleece gloves on to his fingers.
He asked me what time it was. He said the library opened at noon today and he was going to spend his day there, but was waiting for it to open. Would I tell him when it opened, he asked me. He was so gentle and sweet and genuine. He asked us a lot of questions about Tucker. We asked him if he had a dog. He paused and stared at Tucker, his eyes not leaving the dog. "I had a pitbull. I used to run around the house with her and she would never get tired." He bent down and began to pet Tucker gingerly. I asked if he still had his dog. He stood upright, still looking at Tucker, his voice lower now. "No, when the police kicked down our door, she was the first to run downstairs. The cop was scared and shot her in her face and in her jaw."
We all got quiet then. Holden broke our silence by asking the boy if he wanted to throw the ball again for Tucker. He did. Holden and I had not planned on being at the park for that long. I was beginning to feel the cold in my feet. Tucker was getting worn down, so much so that he lay in the snow, panting.
We made small talk with him until we knew the library was open and he could go inside and get warmed. When I told him we were heading home, he looked down at the gloves on his hands. He slowly brushed the snow from them, as if to ensure he returned them in the same non-snowy manner he received them. "Will you keep those for me?" I asked him. "It would make me feel better if you kept them." He looked down and grinned and said "Yes."
We put the leash on Tucker and said goodbye to the boy. I thanked him for helping us wear Tucker out. "We couldn't have done it without you", I told him. We began to walk in opposite directions, he toward the library, and Holden and I down the hill. Neither Holden nor I said anything for a long time. Then, Holden broke our silence by saying "Imagine having your door kicked in by the police and your dog shot. Imagine not having gloves. Not having gloves."
Then we talked about how very sweet the boy was, despite it all.
You were meant to meet this kiddo on that random day. He treasured the encounter, the dog play and those coral gloves more than you'll ever know.
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