the old pit and his man

The people who walk their dogs at the soccer fields tend to follow a regular schedule. I know this because Hazel and I do not have a regular schedule. 

There’s a blue minivan that shows up Monday through Friday at Noon. The man in the pickup truck comes with his black labs around 3pm. The lady with the cane lets her white fur ball romp around the basketball court between 11am and Noon. 

On the weekend we are usually out around 2pm. That is when the old pit and his man are there. The old pit is what I imagine Hazel to look like eight years from now...a bit stout, wobbly and painfully slow...but the man is patient. He brings a blanket and sits on the grass in front of the tennis courts while the dog rests. Next, they make their way behind the courts to the trail and are out of sight for thirty minute or more. When they reemerge, he places the blanket in the grass and reads a book while the dog sits contently by his side. 

I stayed at the field for an hour today, just to observe their routine. I do not know their story, but I admire the man’s patience and compassion.