He was running behind me.
He was small and frail and white and hairy.
And young.
And full of energy.
We were running in the park or so it seemed. Though I was two steps ahead, those two steps were five steps of his stride. Me and my little buddy were running.
He was unknown yet felt familiar in this world where people close to us are sometimes as distant as strangers. He was a small pup who was doomed to survive in this harsh uncaring reality that offers him no affection.
Small kids are instilled with fear of getting bitten by dogs and pups. His teeth, that were just pink gums at that time, could have done no harm to any soul who had cared enough to touch his warm belly.
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That little white hairy stray creature, how could he bite anyone when he was too vulnerable to even defend himself?
I ran for two kilometers and he followed. After that he dwindled from my sight, and found his way into the bushes on the left side of cemented track.
I went on running.
An hour later, when I was passing the same point I had met him, I looked for the pup.
He was nowhere. While we had been running together, I had felt like hugging and cuddling the little dear.
But I didn’t.
And later, I couldn’t find him.
I went home. I came again the next day. And I was not surprised – again I didn’t find that pup.
I never saw him again…..
Sometimes we miss out on chances that we really feel like taking. Only to realize later, how beautiful it would have been if we had followed our instincts in the first place.
Life goes on.
I never saw that pup again.
He might have found another running partner.
I ran alone.
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