On a lovely late evening, I sat in the middle of trees, to write a letters to friends. As I continued writing, a dog with a bright orange neck collar reached near to me. It stepped on to the place I was sitting on. It sniffed the bag, reached out to the book. I didn't entertain it observing it close. It looked at me. I looked at her. Both seemed to be comfortable with being next to each other.
As I continued writing, it just sat next to me, scratched it's ears with it's paws and curled herself up. Comfortably, it lied down and kept staring. For minutes, it just sat like that. When it discovered a fly or insect, it just jumped on it, tried eating the little creature, got onto the place again,curled herself up and sat silently again.
I was doing my work, she was doing her work. For a few minutes, the place she sat became a place to rest. Every two minutes, she was jumping off and eating some insects. It continued till I wrote a letter and till I finished a phone call with a friend. I had to walk away from the place. As I was walking away, it sat silently without a worry of anything happening around her. I wonder, what it is to be comfortable at random places and be ourselves.
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