Flashback Friday: my Buddy.

When I was a young teen, early morning always began as such: I'd hear my parents moving around the house, and at around 630, my mother would say "Buddy. Buddy, go get Leslie up." In my somewhat creaky home, I would hear four paws carry their owner up the stairs, an off rhythm beat. Dog sniffing and a headbutt at my door would swing it open, and in would come Buddy, my Airedale, round side of my bed, where he would promptly stick his face in mine. Mostly, I would be somewhat awake already for this and greet him affectionately. Occasionally, I would pull the covers over my head and the dog-nosed-nudging would become more and more insistent. The best? When I scooted over towards the wall and patted the bed. Buddy would jump on up, turn in a circle (likely stepping on me -- it was a twin bed) and snuggle on in.

He was such a silly dog. We taught him to shake his paw, but he was overzealous, and it got to the point where I could sit with my back to him and he would scratch it by continuously "shaking." When I was in 8th Grade, I came out of math class to see him sitting outside. Once, I was driving home from my friend's house in a bad storm, and my mother said he sat by the window until I pulled into the driveway.

Best friend. I still miss you.

gasp

I stepped outside my office building early this morning, and it smelled like trout. By the bay, the scent of the day changes with the tide, the time of the year, whether or not the wastewater treatment facility nearby has drained into the bay...but this morning, it smelled like trout. Like during summer up in the mountains north of Truckee, when my grandfather would clean the fish they caught in the early hours on the makeshift sink we had at our campsite. He would lay the fish out, side by side, on newspaper, and deftly clean them. I would watch, elbows on the counter, eager to see if the fish were boys or girls....whether or not they had eggs inside. This morning, outside smelled exactly how that moment smelled; visceral, algal, and pescado.