The First Day of Summer

A teenage boy lets out a long howl as he swings out over the pond.  He releases the course rope and drifts through the air towards the chilly water.  The splash rose 10 or 15 feet, and a dog at the edge of the lake looks out excitedly, barking at the pond and nipping at the water drops as they come down.

It was a tradition for Bobby to start the summer with a relaxing day at the pond.  Just himself, his dog, Duggie, the pond, and a tire swing.  The tradition was only celebrating its third anniversary, but if Bobby had his way, he would be right there every year at that time until he was buried there.

Bobby floated to the shore where Duggie greeted him by licking the pond water off his hair.  Tradition dictated that the pair would proceed to play fetch for a while, followed by a catnap under the willow tree, and lastly, enjoying the sunset with ham-ham-cheese-cheese sandwich made for two.

Tradition, however, is meant to be broken.  As Bobby and Duggie fumble through the woods, trying to use the last bit of failing sunlight to find their way, a low rumbling growl cuts through the rustling wind.  The pair stop dead in their tracks.  Having lived in a small rural town all their lives, they both knew the sound of a wild dog.  A second growl chills Bobby to the bone, and as his eyes adjust to the light he sees a menacing shadow growing ever bigger as it approaches.  Duggie heroicly moves in between his master and this threat.  Bobby knows their best chance is to run, and in an instant he takes off in the direction of his house yelling back for his faithful dog to follow.  His muscles burned as he jumped over stumps, ducked under limbs, and dodged around trees.  Bobby never looked back and never lost focus on his house.  If he had, he may have noticed that neither dog had follow him.

That was the last day that Bobby had ever spent with his first and only dog.  The following day Bobby woke up with the sun and spent the day walking all over the woods looking for any trace of his companion.  For that entire summer, Bobby spent his daylight hours marching around the entire area surrounding his small rural home, but never found even a paw print.

Thirty years passed.  Bobby turned in to Bob and the scrawny teenager turned into a man, and memories of his simple days in the country became less detailed, less vivid.  Bob never celebrated the first day of summer again, never owned another dog, and never again touched a tire swing.

Bob still wakes up with the sun, but now he spends his mornings commuting for 45 minutes to his dull accounting job, and he still returns at sunset.  Bob married his high school sweetheart, moved to the suburbs and started a family.  Now it is his family that is the only thing keeping him going to work each day to try to stave off their growing debt.  Life is much more complicated.

This particular day is the thirtieth anniversary of his tradition of not having a tradition for the first day of summer.  Bob gets up with the sun, brushes his teeth, lectures his kids about finishing their homework on time, eats 2 eggo waffles, and kisses his wife as he walks out the door.

Just as Bob nears his car, he reaches to put his key in the door but hesitates.  He sighs to himself as he thinks about all the complexities of his life.  All of a sudden Bob catches a glimpse of a dog in the reflection of his car window and quickly turns around.  As if from nowhere this dog, which looked like an exact replica of Bob's childhood companion, appeared and was simply staring at Bob.

Thirty years had passed, and Bob knew that this dog could not be his Duggie, but that didn't stop him from calling out the name.  To his surprise, the dog walked up to Bob and gave a single yip, as if to confirm the name.  At this point reality began to set in and Bob glances at his watch, realizing he is going to be late.  He turns back to his silver volvo and opens the door.  Before he gets one foot in the car, the little Duggie lookalike hops in and settles in to the passenger seat.  Bob tries to wrestle the dog out of the car, but gives up when he realizes that the dog will have none of it.

Bob starts the car and pulls out of the driveway with this curious dog sitting shotgun.  For a moment, Bob lets out a chuckle, his pressure and stress melts away.  The pair ride down the road in silence, shooting each other curious glances.

The traffic on this particular day was especially bad, giving Bob extra time to get acquainted with his new buddy, of course Bob was doing most of the talking.  Without warning, the dog turns to the window and starts barking.  Bob slows the car and looks out the window where he sees a small pond through the trees.  As he rolls down the window to take a better look, the dog leaps from the car and darts into the woods.  Now Bob feels a little responsible for the dog, so he pulls off the road and follows the new Duggie into the woods.

The dog was sitting by the pond, where  an old rope lay on the ground.  Bob walked up and tried to usher the dog back, even tried to pick him up, but in the tussle Bob gets tossed into the water.  Bobs cheeks burned as his face turned red and his fists tightened in anger.  Bob beat the water sending splashes towards the dog who simply nipped at the water droplets as they came down.  It was this image that again took Bob back to his own dog.

So Bob decided to ask the dog what he wanted.  As if giving a response, the pup picked up the old rope that was laying on the ground with his jaws.  Somehow, this made sense.  Bob climbed out of the pond, grabbed the rope and climbed up the nearest tree to tie one end to a branch.  After untying his tie, removing his expensive shoes, and taking off his shirt, Bob grabbed a hold of the rope and let out a roaring shout as he swung out over the water.

Bob didn't go to work that day.  He didn't stress about his life.  He didn't accomplish anything, yet for the first time in years he felt like tomorrow held more hope than yesterday.  Bob named the dog Duggie, obviously.  Once the sun hit the horizon, the pair made their way back to the car.

On the way back to the car, Duggie ran up to a lightpost and began barking.  Bob noticed a sign on the post with the new Duggie's picture on it.  The sign said that this dog had been lost, and to please return to the attached address.  Bob knew he had to take Bones back to his owner, even though it felt like the dog was his own.

Bob returned the dog, and from that day on he always celebrated the first day of summer.