New friends during COVID-19
So let’s suppose one is about 4,392 years old. Actually 67. And male, further negatively compounding any possible social circle expansion. (Males tend to have difficulty making new friends in the best of times.) Then heavily sprinkle these variables with a wrathful and even fatal dose of planet-wide pandemic and one has the chance to become a shut-in, depressed, fatter, and perhaps even claustrophobic.
However, if one is lucky, tends to smile, the fates line up in a positive way, and one has a French Bulldog – then kismet may be kicked down the road in an encouraging fashion. As it happens I do own a French Bulldog, Winnie, or she owns me. I’ve been trained to: feed her, clean up her public messes, scratch her where preferred, and tidy up her many front-end meal expulsions Frenchies are infamous for. These things I do willingly. She also walks me in the forest.
Initially dogs walking their owners was one of the very few legal ways out of one’s home during the initial stages of the COVID-19 lockdown. And faithfully everyday she walked me. Every morning at 9:15 we drove exactly one mile to Del Monte Forest. Where upon few if any other souls walked. Except for one day. On that day a lovely German Shepard we will call – Romeo - said hello to us. You know, a sniff of the leg, a nose in the crotch, a lick of the face if one were to bend down. I did of course. Then a happy gallop in a growing circle around Winnie and myself. A man name Dave belongs to Romeo. He too has been trained to bring his beast to the forest. Winnie likes Dave and Dave also likes Winnie.
So, the four of us have sauntered in the forest now for perhaps four or five months. Each of us is happy. We have a COVID-schedule-meet-up. Each day, 9:15, rain or shine. If it rains we wear heavy-duty rain-gear. Dog rain gear consists of a towel and a thorough drying before getting back in the dog transportation vehicles to go home. A much easier job for me with a Frenchie than Dave with a very longlegged German Shepard. Plus, Romeo loooves water. Any form will do, puddles, brackish streams, and even the one small but deep pond. Winnie as a Frenchie cannot swim, but she does not know that yet. She will be informed most cautiously at some future point soon.
Anyhooo, Dave, Romeo,
“Friendship multiplies the good of life and divides the evils.” -- Baltasar Gracian
Winnie, and myself have become fast friends. We’ve ridden e-bikes together. Had lunch more than once and he’s helping me build a fence that needs replacing. Oh, and of course we do wife therapy. That entails commiserating on our many and long-remembered marital faux pas (real and imagined I’ll add because neither of our wives will probably ever read this.)
COVID has caused me to have two new solid friends. Something not so easy for an old guy these days. Winnie is pretty happy about the arrangement too.