My time as a dog.

by Barbara Wood (United States of America)

Making a local connection Australia

I meet endless great people and animals traveling the world as a pet sitter. I live locally and intimately, exploring local produce in a farmer’s market, taking public transit to go wine or chocolate tasting, visiting recommended treasures unknown to tourists but suggested by hosts. But, without question, dog walking invites the most rewarding personal connections. Recently near Melbourne, I met 3-year old Ava, her dog Dash, parents and brother while walking Bane, a feisty Westie on the beach. Bane, who had attacked his cool-off pool as I filled it, jumping and twisting like Simone Biles, bounds ahead once freed from his lead. Of course, he attacks each wave as the intruder it is. Bane runs ahead to play with a Dalmatian. “Hi, I’m Ava. I’m three. That’s my dog, Dash,” she says pointing at the Dalmatian. And, just as easily, just as normally, she pulls her shirt to the side to show me the scar in her chest and says, “I had cancer.” Rachel, mom, jumps in, “She had Stage 4 High Risk Neuroblastoma, a very rare and aggressive childhood cancer. She is flying to Sloan Kettering in New York tomorrow, with her dad, for her clinical trial treatment.” I lose track of Bane, of Dash, of everything as my focus narrows to this 3-foot tall, bright light angel in front of me. She’s wearing hand knitted pants and shirt, her hair, wispy light brown blows in the gentle breeze and her blue eyes squint as she looks up into my eyes with the sun behind me. Ava takes hold of Bane’s leash which is wrapped around my waist, and commands, “You are a dog. Your name is Buster.” I immediately begin to bark and pant and prance. She grabs my partner Sally’s clothing and dubs her “Salice.” Ava walks her two new dogs down the beach, while Bane and Dash wrestle and run and splash. “These are my dogs,” Ava says to 2 women approaching us on the beach. I bark and one woman reaches up to pat me, Buster on the head. Remarkably, this goes on for an hour. I was tired of the game but kept going and, as I write this, hope this be a sign of Ava’s perseverance and a harbinger of her ability to fight this disease. Partners, mother, co-workers, friends: the list of people I’ve already lost to cancer. Ava is special, as her mom knows. They are all so easy with her illness, so up front with information, it is obvious they have been dealing with this for quite a while and have mastered the art of Living with illness. They may just be the most joyous family I’ve ever met. Go Fund Me campaigns have raised over $250,000 to fund her treatment. Their friends sent it to their friends and so on and they have enough to fly to New York three times per year. They are put up in Ronald McDonald housing and try to see the sights when Ava’s not too sick. When it comes time for Ava’s swim lesson, Ava begins walking her two new dogs up the beach. We walk nearly a mile and then say goodbye to our new friends who live directly across the street from our temporary home in Black Rock, Australia. When Bane’s parent return home in a few days, they know Ava and the family. I join Ava’s Facebook page and learn more about her journey. When mom answers my message, she addresses it, “Dear Buster.”