OGrey Eric - Walking with peety - the dog who saved my life

W hen youre walking alone in a city late at night, the streetlights and glowing neon signs arent all that comforting. All that brightness only makes the dark spots darker, casting deep shadows where unseen things can hide.

I suppose there are two ways to counter darkness: carry a big light wherever you go, or dont walk alone.

I never walked alone.

Peety was right there with me.

That scruffy old dog had taken me on a journey far greater than all of the road trips and adventures Id managed to treat him to in the five years since wed found each other. I was fully aware of how Peety had helped me to step onto my new paththe one I hoped to stay on for the rest of my life. Id helped him step onto a new path, too, which is why it was tough to watch him that night. Even though his tail was wagging and he had that same bright look in his eye, I could tell he was walking a little slower than usual. I didnt think it was anything serious. To other people it probably looked like he was walking the way any healthy dog might walk. But from the moment we stepped out of our building I could tell he was struggling to keep up the regular pace wed established over our many previous walks together.

I did the math in my head and realized wed taken nearly two thousand walks since it all began. Wed walked a minimum of thirty minutes every morning, every evening, and lots of times in between, every day for all those years. Thats a lot of paw prints on pavement.

Statistically, I knew the average life span of a medium-size dog is only ten to thirteen years. I also knew approximately how old Peety was, and I knew that those two numbers had converged. There was just no way I could believe that Peety was old enough to be slowing down, though. He was too joyful, too excited, too loving, and had way too much life in him for me to entertain the idea that he was in his so-called sunset years.

Plus, we were both too blissful to think morose thoughts. Since moving to Seattle, the two of us had been living like kings. Our downtown high-rise corner apartment had sweeping views over the lights of the city, the boats in Puget Sound, and even the Seahawks games down on CenturyLink Field. From way up on the fourteenth floor, Peety could bark at every tiny dog he saw on the sidewalks below, just to let em know who was in charge.

Peety had his own balcony up there, complete with a private patch of sod, so he didnt have to wait to get fresh air or endure long elevator rides to go do his business. A crew of obedient humans showed up every two weeks to clean and replace his little patch of grass in the sky, as if he commanded his own court of loyal subjects.

It was awesome.

Best of all, he had a family. We had a family. My girlfriend Melissa and her kids loved Peety. They loved us both. I mean, what more could a dog want? (Or a man for that matter?) We were happy.

These are the things I kept telling myself while I tried to ignore his slower pace.

Your dog is so adorable, an attractive young woman said as we turned the corner.

Thank you, I replied. We kept on walking. Peety and I were used to that sort of attention. He was adorable with his patches of black-and-white fur, and knee-high stature. Hed been a babe magnet ever since hed found his stride. A year or two earlier, I might have stopped and let that woman pet him. It would have made for a great introduction. But Peety and I were both much happier in the steady relationship we were in, thats for sure.

We decided to head east, away from the brightly lit, more touristy part of Pike Street, and were just about to cross Second Avenue when a panhandler stepped out of the darkness.

There are panhandlers all over downtown Seattle. Some are homeless. Some are college-age kids looking for drug money. Most are harmless. This guy wasnt. This guy was enormous, and intoxicated, and I could tell right away he was hell-bent on much more than borrowing a little spare change.

You got money? he said.

Peety stopped in his tracks, lowered his head, stared at the man, and growled.

Sorry, man, I said. Nothing on me. Come on, boy.

I tugged on his leash, but Peety wouldnt budge. He stood there, frozen. The hair on his neck stood up. His low, quiet growl grew deeper and louder.

Ohhhh, what you think, that dogs gonna do something? That dog gonna hurt me? The man raised his voice and stepped at me with a menacing look in his eye that made me stop in my tracks. Peety and I had walked this route a hundred times before without incident. I could not believe this was actually happening. Instinctively, my body tensed up, I squared my stance, and my fist gripped around Peetys leash, preparing to fight. I was strong, maybe stronger than Id ever been. Im pretty sure I couldve handled myself in a fight. But this man was on something.

Come on, he shouted. I said give me some money! He reached out to grab me, and Peety barked the most primal, vicious sound Id ever heard. He jumped from the sidewalksix full feet in the airmouth open and lunging for the mans throat. I jerked on the leash and stopped him about an inch short of his teeth making contact. The panhandler reeled. He nearly fell over and scrambled on all fours before running back into the darkness.