Star light, star bright
The first star I see tonight.
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight.
There was a moment tonight at the park––in that brief in-between time when the sun is low on the horizon, resting just above the mountains as if holding its breath before taking the plunge and beginning a new day on the other side of the world, when the evening is orange and bright on one side and deep indigo on the other, when the air is still warm but the grass is almost cold on the bare toes––when Duncan and I had tired of throwing and fetching the ball and had settled down on the grass, sprawled side by side, almost touching but not quite. I was watching the first of the stars ignite in the eastern darkness and Duncan was watching me. I was just beginning to make the same wish I make every time I spot the first star when Dunc scooted close to me, pushing with his back legs and undulating softly and quietly nearer. He stretched his nose close to my face and kissed me once before resting his head on my chest and looking skyward as if making his own wish. We stayed there a long time, me holding his paw, his tenderness holding me.
There is nothing more perfect in this world than the love shared between a dog and his boy.