What is one of the best things that can greet me after a particularly stressful day or one of Ottawa's patented, teeth-cracking, horribly cold winter days?
Not a warm cup of tea, nor a particularly soothing playlist. A comfy spot underneath my covers pales in comparison and a nice book is a close second.
No, the real thing that cheers me up as I arrive home after a tough day is the sight of Nuga the dog.
Nuga is the little pug of a dog that lives a few doors down from me that my mother accidently identified as a pig while moving in last summer. At the time I wondered what kind of neighbourhood I was moving into and where I could get such a pet. Now I wonder when I will get to see the little guy again.
Whenever I am walking down the street and cross Nuga's path he greets me with an emphatic lick of his tongue, swiping paws on my legs and a flurry of excited snorts that I can only assume is the sound of a friendly greeting (and which sound oddly like a pig. Hmmmm).
He is always so happy to see me, no matter the circumstance. Rain or shine, hot or cold, triumph or trial, Nuga is always there to give me a happy greeting. When I am doing my strides after a tough run and my chest hurts, my legs feel like cement and my brain feels like it might spill onto the street I look up and see Nuga at the window of his house, panting at the window, eager to play.
It is this kind of unconditional friendship that makes animals so comforting even on the toughest days. It is this love that makes Nuga one of the brightest beacons, even in the darkest hours.
So I am grateful for Nuga the dog. I am grateful that even after the briefest encounters with him I am left smiling for a long time. I am grateful for his unending enthusiasm and optimism. And I am grateful that he gives me all this without even asking for anything in return, except a pat on the head and the chance to bury his snorting nose into my hands for a second or two.
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