I have a neighbor, and see him walk his dog everyday. It’s a small excitable dog, a little white thing with brown spots prancing about on his red leash, and these dogs usually nauseate me with their obsessive-compulsive neurotic tendencies. For some reason, this one caught my eye. I think it’s because of the man that walks him. He never seems to deviate from this path he’s carved out for himself, and he seems to walk more than necessary, for such a tiny dog. Most of the time, the dog just sits down beside him on the corner bench and waits patiently. The man smiles at all the people that pass him by. He seems to be out most when there is more activity, such as this Sunday morning when neighbors dart out in bathrobes and no makeup to snag the paper before they’re all gone.

My neighbor is an older man, and I’m guessing he’s retired. I’ve noticed him sitting outside on his patio, the smell of cigar smoke dancing out into the air. Sometimes I hear the TV as I walk by, but never a voice. He seems to laugh too loud at his own jokes, and his laugh begs for a smile back. I see him today out on his porch, and he seems a bit sad, belying that smile and crinkliness.

He’s talking right now down the street, his voice drifting up from the corner as he asks another neighbor about the weather. He seems to struggle to keep her there talking to him. She appears polite, but looks like she’d rather walk in a different direction, her body positioned away from him ready to flee. She smiles and walks towards her drive. He stands there with his little dog and keeps on talking, even as she’s closes the distance to the door. He stands there watching after her for a moment, then he turns and pats the dog’s head and they walk away. The dog seems to smile.

I’m wondering if I’m not a lot like that guy. Smiles and loneliness – the heart of all of us at some point or another, I suppose. We hide the truths about ourselves to the world. We smile through pain and pretend everything is fine and dandy, even as we hope someone will open up their door again and come back to talk to us. We’ve all been the woman, the one that closed it on someone who needed a few moments from us. We’ve all been the one shut out.