Recently my mother left for a business trip in China. She flew away one evening and that was when I found my dad and I were alone. Suddenly, instead of coming home each day from school with my mom grinning at me through the glass, I found myself fumbling for the keys.
The house was hot and musty as if no one had lived in it for days. I would set down my things and get to work doing homework and all the other things that were important. My dad came home early each day to pick me up to swimming practice. He would pick me back up and we would eat dinner.
Each day seemed incredibly boring. I found myself almost nodding off into sleep in many times. I reminded myself that my mom was coming back soon, and I eagerly waited for that day.
The day my mother’s airplane landed was yesterday. I eagerly waited for this day, a reminder of all the happy things we had done together. I was furious when I discovered it was a late flight. Technically this counted as landing the next day, I told myself.
But even though I was so happy, there was only one person happier than I was. Or rather, only one dog.
My dog, Peanut, was confused from the day my mom flew away for her business trip. The first few days, my dog spent his time looking in each corner for my mom, and when he failed to find her, sulked in his corner.
Each evening, my family took a walk. We stepped out of our homes into the muggy and humid Houston air, walked down the sidewalk and around the corner to a small trail behind our neighborhood, and we enjoyed the air.
There’s not much to enjoy about this walk sometimes, but it is such a tradition that without it, the day feels oddly incomplete. Normally my mom would participate as well. In these days, she was not there.
My dog sulked around, refusing to go very far.
And finally, my dog seemed to accept it. He started acting more happier and we thought that perhaps Peanut had forgotten all about my mom.
Yet when my mom came, these thoughts were instantly erased and I laughed at myself for even doubting my dog’s love. When he saw my mom taking out her luggage through the glass doors of our house, immediately his entire body perked up.
His tail began to wag furiously and his ears, once settled flat on his head, perked up. He lifted his paw on the door, and for a moment, there was absolute silence. Then my mom opened the gate and that was when he began to bark.
Everyone in a ten-mile radius heard his bark. Everyone heard my dog’s happiness as he jumped on my mom and nearly knocked her down, and the next hour or so spent furiously licking her.
And everyone now knows that love is a beautiful thing: it is something that will never end. Because love is what keeps us going. Love is what keeps my dog going
Don’t you love love?