Loving you was so easy.

Today, I cried about a dog. Maybe it was the carcinogenic seasoning affecting my brain, or maybe I connected with a bit of life that hits me in precious moments too few and far between.

There was a guide dog that was helping a blind lady on a crowded bus on my way home. He was a medium-sized dog, with shiny black hair. What caught my attention, besides the fact that he was a cute animal, was that he crossed one of his front paws over the other while he sat. From my perspective, he looked so sad lying with his belly on the bus floor next to his owner's feet, surrounded by a cage of swaying legs and shoes, trying not to skid around while the bus lurched forward and ground to way too many unnecessary halts, meanwhile making himself as immobile as possible to avoid being stepped on. Oh well, the bus lurched again and his tail was stepped on by a lady who lost her balance. The poor dog didn't make a sound, just tucked its tail forward and kept its head down.

I've seen a few guide dogs on the subway, but this one really moved me. I felt sorry for the dog, not for the blind human. I felt bad that the dog was forced into a life of servitude, destined to lead a human around and not enjoy its own freedom. I was amazed at the dog's courage to confront human rush hour on public transportation every day, heed what his owner wanted to do. I leave for work either at 7:45am or 9am just to miss the masses, because I have a choice.

I felt a lump grow in my throat and tears start forming. Luckily, it was a few minutes before my stop. Tears flowed free on my walk home, though!

While I'm relieved that I am still able to feel spontaneous emotion, I'm concerned that I felt more compassion for this dog than for the human. Is that just me?