A Lunar Welcome
Every day, at the same time, in the same place, for the same situation, I am delighted. By some power incomprehensible to me, Luna detects my presence ten paces from the gate and barks to alert the house I’ve arrived. Then, I am greeted by her as I slowly crack open the door, careful to not bump an overzealous puppy. Her eleven pound, furry frame bounces up and down, oblivious to the evils of the world and simply ecstatic to welcome me. I expect that after four years of existing in this world, she would have found something better to do than roll around on the couch for hours, eyes fixed on the door. Sometimes, as she awaits to welcome others, Luna lets out these heavy sighs; what could possibly be troubling the little freeloader so.
The zeal behind this routine never subsides. She is always as excited to welcome me home as the first time, a sentiment which cannot be taught. These are the moments which I am lucky enough to experience every day, and similarly to Luna, I feel just as delighted as the first time I was welcomed home by her ceaseless joy. She may be a large part of my life, but we are her life.
Time and time again we go through the routines of our far-from-delicate dance. At first she pretends to be disinterested, apparently unaware that I must’ve heard the barking, too, before sprinting towards me with complete disregard for her own safety. It’s only through my meticulously practiced tap dance-like routine that I’m able to skirt the bundle of fur as she presents herself. It is only after gently tossing her onto the sofa that her energy subsides and she goes back to her self-obsessed highness.
It takes a special moment to inspire consistent surprise. In elementary school, when there were no responsibilities to keep me occupied, I was always within ten meters of the door when Dad came home. During that time I, too, had nothing better to do than wait around for him to come home, and all I wanted to do was share with him how many touchdowns I scored in recess or how I learned that shooting stars weren’t actually stars. Even before he put his bag down, I would have a ball in my hand, using my 20-kilo frame to bring him to our five foot tall mini-hoop. Tail wagging, Luna greets me with a ball in her mouth.She noses it to my feet, poised to chase after it and expecting me to throw it for her.
My dad used to say my running to the door to greet him was the best part of his day, and that one day I too would understand one day. Although it may be a long time until I experience this, thanks to these little moments, I’ve seen the trailer to a delightful movie.