Filling the Page  

A blank page can be quite intimidating. It calls for me to give it some life, and that’s not always easy. Here I go. I’ll see what happens on an early Wednesday morning.

Susan had it all . . . intelligence, beauty, a sense of humor, and a dog. It was the dog that gave her the most comfort. Intelligence was nice, of course. It allowed her to complete college in three years and to secure a great job in the financial district in San Francisco. Her hefty salary paid the bills. She was beautiful as well, with long, ebony hair that hung below her shoulders and a willowy figure that turned heads. Her eyes were blue and welling with expression that drew others, almost too many of them, to her. And that smile . . . it was unforgettable. Often men, single and otherwise, hounded her, offering lunch dates, theater tickets, and more.

“No thanks,” she said over and over, “I have my sweet Max at home.”

“Are you sure?” one or two might ask.

“Very,” she’d reply. “I love Max.”

“Max is a lucky guy,” many murmured behind her back, disappointed and believing.

Max was lucky. Every morning when Susan left for work, she touched him softly and kissed him on the top of his head. “Bye,” she’d say. “See you tonight.”

And he’d wait, staring out the window, nibbling a bit of food, or lying in wait on the couch or near the door. Late afternoon never came soon enough.

When she was home Susan greeted Max the same way every day. “Hey baby! Did you have a good day? I missed you.”

Max looked at her with adoring eyes and waited longer as Susan changed into her sweats and tennis shoes, grabbed a tennis ball, the harness, the leash, and treats from a jar on the kitchen counter.

“Ready? Let’s go, buddy,” she said, grinning, and they were off, two friends on top of the world.