The Obedience School was actually on the roof of a YMCA. What I remember most was how obedient all the dogs were. There wasn’t a single disobedient dog on the entire rooftop of the YMCA that summer.
I also remember how quiet it was. I don’t think anyone talked or hummed to themselves or even spoke to their dogs. I also remember the feeling of dropping my leash and looking at my dog and how suddenly it grew even quieter.
I know that I must be misremembering something. It was so quiet and yet it seemed to get quieter. It was also summer and yet it seemed to be cold. There was a fog in the air, if you can say that. I could smell honey, and the scent of what you might call real dogs down below on the street. You could smell their anger, even from the rooftop. All the dogs before me, quiet and dignified, knew that they would be torn apart once they went downstairs and entered the world of dogs. But still, when class was over, they would go downstairs and they would go outside. They would accept their fate readily, if you can call it that, because that is just the way things go for obedient dogs in summer that smell like honey.
4 weeks ago