Cinn

I’ve always been a fan of the ocean. Not to be cliché, but in exactly the way that you think. I am in awe of how simply large it is, how it is constantly moving, bringing itself in and out in a rhythm as easy as breathing. I love its color, even though I’ve never been in a part of the ocean that allows me to see my own feet touching the bottom. It’s green, dark blue, and white, and that’s always been just fine.

I’ve never been in ocean water higher than my head. And though I’m not a risk taker, I’ve always wondered how it would feel if I were to let it sweep me away, let myself float out on a raft and just guess whether the tides would eventually return me.

A few weeks ago I went to the beach with my dog. He’s always loved to swim, to get himself soaking wet just to feel what it’s like. And after fifteen years of living, he still understands water when he sees it: he knows the purpose is to walk right in and let it sweep you, let it consume you.

I’ve never felt more exhilarated and nervous in my life. My dog is fifteen, older than most of the dogs I’ve ever known, and yet he still trots right into the ocean, acknowledging it, and yet not truly recognizing the power the ocean possesses to take him. Every minute I was afraid he would be swept away from me, that I would run in after him, and yet fail to release him from the grip of the tides. That we would have to leave the beach and admit defeat. That once and for all, Cinnamon would be gone.

But he trotted with such energy that I couldn’t bear to take him out of the water. I splashed at his face timidly, and when he noticed he gave a happy snap with his teeth. He sent a passing glance to me when he could afford to tear his eyes away from the ocean.

My dog and I, the two of us, I believe are kindred spirits. We both like to be outside, and together we have grown through life at an alarmingly fast rate. We’ve lived and loved together. My mom, she’s his master, the one he will always follow no matter how far she goes. My other dog, he’s my child, the one who will always need me somewhere close.

But Cinnamon and I? We’re each other’s best friends.

I think we both can admire the power of the ocean. The two of us, we’ve never hesitated to walk right in, to smile at the waves and relish in the water that lingers on our tongues. We’ve both wondered how far out we could go before we would be forced to turn around.

And we both know that one day we will walk into the ocean, and we will not look back.