UNITED STATES—A look of love…
As a pit-bull lab mix, I Luna, have a magical effect over people, none more than neighbors coming out of their gate in the morning and, of course, mail carriers, especially when a new one is filling in for our regular guy. He knows to chuckle and keep his arm held high when passing the day’s bills and bulk mail directly to my master. The “master” still remains comically prone to gaffes and miscalculations when it comes Luna protocol.
Yesterday. He was leaving for work before daybreak. There are the wages of laziness. His laziness was not reaching for his phone and pressing on the flashlight app. There was an audible squish underfoot. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. As the master’s curse evaporated into the cool, dark, morning air, and he did a wretched jig in dirt and the dry carpet of bougainvillea petals and dreaded the morning commute accompanied by eau d’luna poop, he did a brave thing and reached at last into his pocket. To be humbled to his shinbones and discover he’d again brushed over the detail of bringing his phone.
In the dubious quest for more and MORE and M-O-O-O-R-E, he had placed Mr. Jobs’ ingenious device back on the charger, to go forth into the new day with just a little more juice. Indeed, the master took the device. And privy to uncharacteristic perspicacity, remembered to leave water and kibbles for, me and my chihuahua, Jack Russell sidekick.
That was two feathers in his cap, alright.
There was charge enough to rely on Google maps, which took him to the 101, with a heavy side order of misgivings. The previous day this wizard of navigation had taken him on a bewildering maze of streets, and right turns at the stop sign, and lefts and even one U-turn. This day was different. Traffic was a breeze, the vehicles greatly spaced out in the dawn darkness.
However, this phone-guided journey tapped out the last reservoir of charge. The “master” sought to conserve a prudent vestige of charge. That soon was used up. The master made a truce with himself: no reason to fret over what we don’t know about. Yes, he mused about how individualized communications have become, and how fragile.
I, Luna can attest that chief among the master’s preoccupations at workday’s end was to be reunited with the doggie residents in his abode. Our thirst and hunger were foremost in his ego-driven mind. There was certainly suspense enough on the way home, as he relied on and the signs and eventually the Emerald City rose up after the final curve of the 10 Freeway. He had made it home.
And when at last, we canines were reunited with the master, I Luna got served first, being the alpha female, and baby DeVille got his vittles, too. Immediately after performing that most vital action of feeding us, the master restored the phone to its rightful place on the charger.
To be continued…
