Two Tales of Two Friends

 First Tale:  A wet misty day, along a main byway in the SE county. A hodgepodge of homes, both stick built and manufactured, along with business warehouses, and undeveloped property.  Standing outside of one such business, a construction company with a large dirt yard, I heard a door open and watched an elderly German Shepherd Dog hobble out. Faded, black and tan, etched with a patina of silver. She ambled around the large fenced lot, sniffing here and there, checking for smells, still growing her brain.  A short time later, the door sounded again, and an older man stepped out with a worn, green tennis ball in his hand.  He, too, was etched with a patina of silver. She looked up, giving wags, as her dear pal approached and gave her some pats. They wandered around together for a bit. Then, he threw the ball for her.  As I watched, in my mind's eye, I saw the puppy and the younger man, joyfully chasing sticks and balls.  Puppy, all legs and clumsiness, as she went after that elusive green ball. Man, all laughter and joy, as he watched his goofy girl race about, zipping and turning, as only puppies can. I saw that ball being retrieved from grassy fields, front lawns, beaches and paths as the two friends aged together.  On this day, the man threw the ball, the dog walked over to it, picked it up, gave it a chew, dropped it, and looked expectantly at her friend, as he walked over, retrieved the ball, and tossed it once again.  After several minutes, the two walked back inside and I heard the door close. They still played together, each looking after the other, a testimony to love.

Second Tale: On the same road, I was positioned further east, where one home sat on the edge of a wooded lot. Across the street was a field, bordered by trees and a rusted, wire fence. I had been standing in the same spot for several days as the cars zipped by during early Covid times. I had noticed that a gray squirrel was consistently moving from a tree in the yard, to one in the woods, and would occasionally stop and perch on the edge line, as if watching the cars go by. At intervals, he would cross the road and disappear for a while. For me, as a flagger, one of my greatest fears is for the animals who populate the road borderlands, and frequent that highway.   I kept my eye on that little squirrel, as he moved back and forth.  This same house also had a German Shepherd Dog, but I will save that tale for a later date.  Every morning, as I set up signs, and positioned myself, I would check for my little friend. About a week into it, I was busy setting the warning signs up and getting myself into place.  Oftentimes, this is a hurry up and wait kind of scenario. That day, there was a truck parked in front of mine, along the shoulder, and  I saw something beside the rear wheel.  I  realized that I was seeing a small, wild rabbit, perched on its hind legs, looking intently across the road. I followed his gaze, and there was his friend, my friend, the little gray squirrel, no longer bustling about scrutinizing the road.  He had been hit by a passing car, flattened, and that was that.  Except it wasn't for me, or the bunny.  Those two had been friends, or had known about each other in some way. The one was wondering why his friend had not come over yet.  The other would never return.