verge (vʉrj)
the edge, brink, or margin (of something): also used figuratively the verge of the forest, on the verge of hysteria

to tend or incline (to or toward)
to be in the process of change or transition into something else; pass gradually (into) dawn verging into daylight

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Trade Off

This is so Artemis and Biscuit.  As you can see, they wanted to head in opposite directions yesterday.  Or maybe it was something else. I can't really know for sure. I am their tie breaker during moments like these. They have an understanding all their own.  She's the task master and he's the clown.  She leaves him a bite or two of kibble in her bowl and he bats clean up. She runs fast, but he makes her wait as he shuffles forward. Together they have mastered The Art of the Trade Off and all kinds of silent deals are made that both amuse and mystify me.

Biscuit is getting on.  At seventeen, he's a very old, sweet soul.  He has kept on his faithful trudge, even through this remarkable winter.  He can't hear us and occasionally when he's off-lead, he veers off in another direction as if we aren't there.  Or maybe he can hear us...I can't really know for sure. Our most recent walks have been challenging--he wants to go even while his body objects.  The last couple have made this particularly evident. It's hard to know what to do. There is no tie breaker here.

His owner spoke with me after this walk.  He asked me what I thought.  Please, no, please....It was the kind of exchange that never leaves you.  Brief, understated, eyes averted, dread. We agreed to not know for another day.  Our silent deal--perhaps our attempt at Tradeoff.  I can't really know for sure.

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