I just came home from a 2,5-hour walk. I was only supposed to pop to the nearest grocery store to get the ingredients for Reuben tortillas (I had my first ever Reuben sandwich during the week prior to Nera's death, and have some tortillas lying around, so why not fusion cuisine?), but while they did have sauerkraut, they didn't have any salt beef. So I walked to the gas station grocery, they didn't have any either; I figured I'd have just enough time to walk to the grocery close to the pool where I knew for sure I would find more salt beef as I had bought some today. I went there and I got my precious salt beef, yay.
At this point I was so sucked into the meditative quality of a long night walk that I ended up zig zagging around the neighborhood and reminiscing how I used to wander around with Nera just like that when she was younger. It helped me when I realized that our walkies, while still long by most dog's standards, had gotten steadily shorter and slower, just like my walks will some day start slowing down and shortening. Now Nera can walk with me without the shackles of her material body.
Take it as you will, but a little Schnautzer threw an absolute shit fit when I walked past. Dogs usually never bark at me, but they did bark at Nera. For some reason, a lot of dogs feel nervous around black dogs - one explanation that sounds plausible to me is that it's harder to read the body language and expressions of a black dog. I know this sounds like complete humbug, but in that moment I was reminded how regally Nera would pass the little or bigger ones yelling and barking at her, and just keep on tippy-tapping her fluid, elegant gait, with her tail trailing her like a veil of black smoke. She was a queen, through and through. Remembering it made me feel ten feet tall.
Anyway, I better brush my teeth and try to snooze a bit; I have been so active today that I will probably need to get up and eat at some point. But I'm very pleased with myself today. I did well. Nera would be proud!