Singing Second

I have always believed that there are two types of dogs:

Dogs that sing and dogs that don’t.

I have come to believe that my dog is part of the second category.

He’s almost 3 years old. Hasn’t sang once, ever.

He’s a non-singer.

He’s cute and all. But that’s it.

I have come to believe that my theory is void.

 

I was on a restaurant’s terrace. Medieval town, old church just next to us. We were serving a good, fancy meal, after 3 days of nature. One second (a sharp one, most probably) the church bell started a solid loud sound across all surrounding air. That was all that one could hear.

Frido shifted his head to face the church, with a very short but well-decided move. His eyes were wide open and looked quite surprised. He was staring in amazement. The next second he lifted his little face up and closed his eyes. That lasted I think a couple of seconds more. I was asking arround and in my head what is going on. But the next second everything was as clear as the sound of a church organ. It was the Singing Second.

He switched to that little whistling look, twisting his dog lips and just
s   i   n   g   i   n   g.

 

He sang for 3-4 very long and beautiful seconds.

And I almost started crying.

 

***
There’s no such thing as a non-singer dog. There’s just the magical Singing Second. When a non-singer dog becomes a singer dog. And only he knows what would make his soul vibrate.

 

Always be your dog’s believer.

Space-Time Notes:

This story has happened in Sighisoara, after 3 days near the woods of Micfalău, Covasna, more than a month ago.

The illustration has been done near the woods of Ulmoasa, Maramureș, where Frido and I have stayed for 3 days, more than a week ago.

This story has been written and indexed after 3 days near the woods of Rimetea, Alba, for my 31st birthday.

Frido will be 3 in September.