So after all the various annoyances of the day combining into an unhappy me, I finally found the moment and sight that relieved everything. After all the idiocies of a co-worker, the mind-numbing seven hour shift proceeding, and the general altercations of what keeps us unsure about our lives, I walked home from a friend’s house at half past eleven in the evening to see a beautiful thing.
Something scurried across the quiet road and I wasn’t quite sure whether it was a strange looking cat or a lost squirrel, perhaps. But it had no tail, so it seemed. My vision of it was void at the point it disappeared behind a lamp post, but I kept on walking to pass the obstacle and I saw it, frozen beside a wall, tiny and unique. A hedgehog, staring at my feet. I stopped and I crouched down to meet its level, within reason, and we stared at each other for a while.
I cared little for whether anyone was watching, I said hello. I asked the little thing, with fear in its eyes, what it was afraid of, but all it could do was keep in its one position and stare at me. I was looking deep into the tiny eyes of this animal, and I was calm.
I understood that it didn’t matter what was going on for me. No matter how useless I felt, or how unfortunate I believed I was, that hedgehog had a harder life than me. And at that point it was probably scared to lose what it had. Not daring to even breathe it would only stare, until the monster that stood before it would walk on.
So I stood up and I started to go home again, continuously looking back at the creature that I had shared something with; an embrace of thought. Each time I looked back, although I was further away, it had not moved an inch. For all I know, sitting here right now, it could still be at that same spot. Too afraid to move on yet, in case I return.
There’s something beautiful about animals. I don’t think you can love anyone until you have experienced the love of an animal. I mean this in the unconditional way that you never ask anything of them but will always be there to keep them cared for. Sometimes I wonder if that language barrier we have is such a bad thing.
I got home and Big G was there to greet me – his tail wagging erratically – and he came outside as though to go for a pee-walk. We went around the usual way and he didn’t pee once, just plodded on a little and circled and we came back. He was happy to do it, and I was happy simply to allow him his little freedom. I don’t know if anything was truly gained from the experience, but I would go for the walk again without question even if nothing was to gain. Maybe all of this means nothing, it’s possible that I don’t understand anything that’s happening these days, but what I’m trying to say is that sometimes even with everything that stresses and frustrates us with everyday life, there is a balance within the unlikely speechless nature of animals to nurture our souls and keep us breathing steadily.
Just look into their eyes from time to time, try and see them staring and thinking, because every now and then you might just think they are as human as yourself.
