You're not so strange after all
On the kindness of strangers
There’s a certain look I could get used to.
It’s a momentary jolt. A ripple of energy. The eyes flash and the eyebrows pop up just slightly. The head tilts in a “I didn’t catch that” kind of way. A warm smile or, sometimes, a slight mouth-gape appears.
It’s the moment they take a beat to absorb what you’ve said. Or maybe, to absorb YOU as a person.
You go from being just a “hi-beautiful-day-we’re-having-lovely-dogs-you-got-there-what-kind-of-dogs-are-those?-come-here-often” passing pleasantry to being someone worth lingering for.
You become an actual “someone.”
You feel seen. And, no point in denying it, you feel fucking cool.
So…what on God’s green earth is the catalyst for this energy-shifting, coolness-bestowing moment I’ve been having these days?
After I share with the person in front of me that the dogs are weimaraners. No, not labradors. Yeah, they kind of look like labs. Oh yeah, lots of energy. They’re 5 and 6 years old. Yup, half sisters. Same dad. Yeah, they actually come in blue and silver. Long and short hair. We just had to have one of each. Etc.
I then will squeeze in…
“We’re traveling around America for the next year or so.”
BOOM!
Jolt. Flash. Energy shift.
Suddenly, I’m the most interesting person in the WORLD at the local dog park.
Suddenly, I’m a person who warrants an extra minute (or 25 minutes) of talking to.
Exactly one week has passed since we said our heavy-hearted goodbyes. Loaded up the car. And hit the road for Cape Cod - stop #1 on our Great American Tour. Where, despite a rocky first few hours of washing someone else’s vomit off one of those weimaraners (no, not labs. Yeah they kind of look like a lab. They come in long an short hair), we had a truly incredible time.
Long walks on the beach, grilling sausages and hotdogs (and any other meat we could find that was encased in animal intestines), journaling in the mornings, watching trashy TV at night. Eating too many Oreos.
Utter bliss.
Every day we met someone (or multiple someones) who would stop to chat about the dogs. The dogs are attention magnets. People couldn’t give two shits about us. Nor, quite frankly, I about them. Thank God for the dogs, or I wouldn’t feel half this cool.
These types of encounters always follow the same pattern.
Person: “what beautiful dogs!” Person smothers dogs in pats and chin scratches. Person coos at dogs while asking us a handful of questions about dogs. Up to this point, person barely sees or hears us. Half listening to our now well-rehearsed answers.
It isn’t until I mention what they hell we’re doing here, that we suddenly appear before them. Eye contact and all.
FINALLY! I’m more interesting than my dogs. Move over dogs. It’s my turn for a chin scratch.
Growing up in New Hampshire, you’re born obligated to dislike people from Massachusetts. We even have a name for them. Massholes. Someone cuts you off in traffic - Masshole! Someone talks too loudly in line at Dunkin’s waiting for their “two laaaawge regalaw coffees” - Masshole! That guy who just exhaled smoke in your face as you passed on the street - Masshole!
But, after a week being surrounded by my southern bordering neighbors, I am shocked to say that “Masshole” never escaped my lips. Each and every interaction was incredibly warm. Full of enthusiasm and encouragement.
The same can be said for my fellow New Englanders in Connecticut.
As I write this, I’m now sitting in a gorgeous, light-soaked fully converted garage in Mystic, CT. Stop #2.
Just yesterday morning, while chatting over the fence, the host of our Connecticut Airbnb (after learning of our endeavor to see America) literally offered to watch our dogs so we could go on a date and leave thee dogs behind!
{Not that this makes a difference, it would still be wicked generous! But, after a quick Google search, this man happens to be a highly regarded general surgeon with over 30 years with MedStar Washington Hospital out Washington DC (his second home). And he offered to dog-sit for us!
Don’t worry, I didn’t take him up on it. If one of our dogs got a little too excited with a treat and took a little nibble on those life-saving hands, I would never forgive myself.}
The kindness of strangers. It’s blown me away completely.
It has made me realize how few-and-far between this experience is. The experience of being someone worth lingering for. And listening to. Especially by people who don’t know you from Adam.
Perhaps they can feel my excitement. Their energy reflects my energy. Their enthusiasm my enthusiasm. They say you get what you put out there.
I hope to keep sharing my dogs and my enthusiasm for this journey with the people I meet along this Great American Tour.
I may even think twice before calling someone a Masshole again. We’ll see. I make no promises :)
West Chester, PA here we come!
—Lauren
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Great story, and what an awesome gif :-)
Love this! So proud of you and Peter for dreaming about doing this and actually doing it!!
Looking forward to your weekly updates on your experiences!