My Mom is paying us a visit at the moment. It’s a great time of year to be in Queensland. The weather is so stable it is laughable; we have had weeks and weeks of perfect weather, with clear blue sunny skies, days warm enough to wear short sleeves, nights cool enough to snuggle under a blanket beside the heater, and mornings just perfect to enjoy a cup of tea on the deck while looking out across the sea.

We love to watch the people go by. A constant stream of dog-walkers, joggers and cyclists pass by on the promenade across the road. One man, in particular, has caught our attention. Tall and lanky, he wears dark glasses and a knitted hat, and he stops at the top of the stairs that lead onto the beach opposite our house. He walks slowly using crutches and is accompanied by a dog who, like his master, is lame in one leg.

It is not a sight you see every day – the lame man and his three-legged-dog – and something about the pair of them draws our attention. The dog always looks happy. Nobody told him there’s anything wrong and he runs like the wind across the beach, through the water, chasing the birds like a maniac. And then he returns to his owner who stays at the stairs. He appears to do some sort of rehabilitative exercises in his legs. Unlike his dog, there is an immense sadness about him. The dog doesn’t care. He sits beside him and shares his joy. Did you see me chase those birds, Dude? I’m da man!

Mom and I drink our tea in the sun on our deck and ponder their partnership. Perhaps he was in an accident? Maybe he had surgery? He definitely seems to be recovering from something, we whisper. We don’t want him to hear and he’s only across the road.
And we chuckle and enjoy watching the dog take off after another seagull.

Yesterday an elderly man came walking by. He saw the crutches, stopped, turned back and bold as brass asked the man about his injured leg. Just like that!
It was the perfect example of how differently men and women communicate. He saw, got curious, asked and got an answer… an answer that we still don’t have because we were across the road drinking our tea and not wanting to pry.

Then again, the old man probably just wanted to know what happened to his leg, while we have so many more questions… how did it happen? Why so sad?
And did you get the three-legged-dog before or after you went lame?

All good stuff to ponder while sitting in the sunshine enjoying a cuppa.

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