Strolling along and enjoying the architecturally astonishing streetscape near Battery Park in Charleston. Nearly gasping at homes exuding confident beauty. Sneaking glances of meticulously manicured gardens hidden behind perfect boxwoods and wrought iron doors. Wondering what it must feel like to live daily in such historic splendor.
Slowing my gait. Pausing. Hearing the tapping of paws and nails on wood. The joyful whimpering. Looking down and seeing him. No not him really, just his snout, basically his nose.
Imagining his tail wagging furiously as he looked from inside out.
Realizing that occasionally all that’s needed is a glance. A taste. An appreciation.