OH my God, there are TWO of them.
Back in Hungary I often walk my dogs separately, not only because I know they need their one-on-one time with me, but also because I don’t want the little one picking up Eliott’s belief that the world is a terrifying, dangerous place where every other dogs must be barked at like there’s no tomorrow.
I still remember the day, when for efficiency’s sake, I walked them together. One of my neighbors, who apparently didn’t notice that one dog is three times the size of the other until that time, stared at us in utter shock, their eyes wide with genuine disbelief, and said:
“Oh my God. There are TWO of them.”
Ever since, it’s been my dream to have a connection with someone that makes others think the same about us. About the chaos, the joy, the unfiltered freedom and insanity.That they’d just stare at us in awe and whisper, “Oh my God, there are TWO of them.” I don’t think there’s anything I fear more than a connection this deep, yet at the same time, I desperately and longingly seek it. Maybe in New York, I will find it.
