The night the Rhymer went whack

67

No greater joy can be received than a scratch to a dog’s belly.

As Nick continued his walk, he felt the beating of his heart in tune with the pulsing rays of the sun. He noticed his step and its unity now meshing with his surroundings. The clouds visualizing the songs of the birds and the chittering of the rodents. He felt weightless and free as if he were energy himself, able to be dispensed upon the universe. He whistled slightly, evoking immediate silence then an emergence of sound came from everywhere.

The birds, the rodents, the insects and even the wind gave a nice cool melodic breeze. And no one could’ve been more happier at Nick’s emergence than Rascal. He had served his master well by eliciting a strong presence of leadership, conducting Nick to this place, and it had hardened him, made him more aggressive, focused, and mean, but his instinctive playful demeanor was reborn as he panted and jumped in circles around Nick. And just like old times Nick hugged him and Rascal tackled him as they commenced to rolling around and playing like they did when he was a pup. Seeing this, more dogs joined in.

They too were hardened by the corruption of the world yet they were eager to re-embrace their playfulness, so Nick hugged, scratched and rolled with all of them for hours on end. Human and canine, best friends since the dawn of time.