text: At the height of the pandemic, I quit my job, packed up my life, and moved back in with my parents. Moving back into my childhood home came with many conflicting emotions--while it was something nostalgic and familiar, I also felt like a stranger in my own home. Luckily, my parents welcomed me and my puppy Brownie with open arms; after the death of our beloved family dog 2 years ago, it was clear that they enjoyed having some companionship around the house again. It was a good change for Brownie as well--I could tell he preferred living in an actual house versus our cramped studio apartment in the big city. He loved having so much more space around him and enjoyed exploring all the new smells in the neighborhood. On our walks, I would usually take Brownie to a small park near our home as most dogwalkers in our neighborhood frequented that area. I had also befriended some of the regulars there, so it was a good opportunity for both the dog and I to socialize within our new community as well. There was a larger park located outside our neighborhood that was more quiet and serene that I had never taken Brownie. Our late dog Samson had loved this park but we hardly ever took him there because it was farther away (~20 minute walk each way). So for Brownie’s first birthday, I decided to take the long trek to this park to kickstart his big day with a new adventure. As a former street dog, Brownie had very strong instincts; sometimes it seemed like he had a built-in GPS. He had never even been to this park but as we got closer to it, the harder he started pulling towards it. He knew all the turns and paths to turn to get there--even I had to navigate our way there with Google Maps. Without a beat, he dashed past the playground, swing set, and benches to a fenced off area that I had never noticed before. It was the size of a dog park enclosure, although it didn’t seem like it was one as the grass looked pristine and unused. There wasn’t any signage that indicated what this area was either. Right in the center of the garden was a patch of beautiful flowers, arranged in a rainbow-like gradient. Brownie sat in front of the open gate begging to go in. I was hesitant because I didn’t want him to mess up the garden as it looked like private property. He absolutely refused to move so I relented, “Fine, just five minutes.” I looked around to make sure no one was watching us and went in, closing the gate behind us and taking off his leash. As usual, Brownie sniffed and galloped all over the garden. I was worried that he would make a mess but thankfully, it didn’t seem like he had left any marks. This place seemed like a paradise for him and he didn’t want to leave, but I stuck to my guns and enforced the five-minute rule. After some whining on his end, I had to carry him out and walk him home. The rest of Brownie’s birthday went well. We got him a doggy cake and invited some friends and their dogs over for a party. He got all his favorite treats and all the love from his favorite people (and me). As I was getting ready for bed at 11pm, I noticed Brownie sitting by his leash. Once he saw me looking at him, he started to whine, indicating that he wanted to go for a walk. It was strange because we never walked him this late at night so he had never asked to go out at night. “Sorry boy but it’s late, I promise you’ll get a longer walk tomorrow morning,” I said. He didn’t seem happy with my response and started crying loudly, borderline howling. Not wanting him to wake up the entire family, I gave in and started putting on his harness and leash. The second we were out of the door, he started running in the direction of the large park. “Brownie, slow down boy,” I wheezed. “I can’t keep up at this speed for 20 minutes.” He stopped and sat, looking around as if to re-evaluate his surroundings. He spent the next couple of minutes sniffing the ground and after that, he took a different direction, leading me through a series of unfamiliar alleys. As we were still new-ish to the neighborhood, I had absolutely no idea where we were going and honestly, I was a little afraid of what we were getting into. However, no more than 5 minutes later, we arrived the large park. Somehow, Brownie had found a shortcut to this park--which was very impressive. Thankfully, the park was brightly lit by streetlamps so I felt more at ease, although there wasn’t a soul in sight. Once again, Brownie begged to enter the fenced garden. “Five minutes,” I said, and we went inside. As I closed the gate and bent down to unhook the leash, I heard something footsteps and panting coming towards us from a distance. I looked up to see a white schnauzer running towards us, its tongue sticking out and looking overjoyed to have found us. The dog completely ignored Brownie and came right up to me, rubbing his face all over my leg and licking me all over. This poor baby had probably been lost in here without its owner and was dying to be let out. He looked just like Samson and reminded me of him as well, because he would also nuzzle & lick me every time I came home for the holidays. “Aww hi baby,” I cooed as I squatted down to pet him. “Are you here all by yourself? Where is your family?” He looked at me with longing eyes and licked my face. “Aww you’re so adorable, you look just like my Samson,” I said as I looked into his beautiful brown eyes. His ears perked up as he got even more excited and started running around me in circles. Meanwhile, Brownie seemed elated to have found a new friend; he followed the dog trying to sniff his butt. Upon noticing Brownie, he stopped, sat, and stared at me with sad eyes. “Oh I forgot to introduce you two! This is Brownie, today is his first birthday so go easy on him,” I joked. “He may look scary but he’s a sweet boy just like you so you will get along great!” Brownie tried to nuzzle up to him, licking him all over his face but the dog looked devastated for some reason. After a few moments of petting him and trying to get them acquainted, the dog started to perk up and reciprocated Brownie’s licks and butt sniffs. They got along great, chasing each other around the garden and rolling around in the flowers. After about 10 minutes of playtime, both dogs came back exhausted and laid down on either side of me. I took this opportunity to search the lost dog for any ID tags but he didn’t have a collar or anything on him at all. I reached for my phone to take a picture of him but realized that I left it at home as I thought we were just taking a quick walk around the neighborhood for Brownie to potty before bedtime. The dog crawled into my lap and looked up at me with his big sad puppy eyes. He was such a sweet, adorable dog and I felt bad for how sad he must have felt being all alone here. I was glad he was having a good time with us. As I got Brownie ready to leave, I realized I couldn’t just leave this dog alone in the middle of the night. I didn’t have an extra leash with me so I tried scooping him up into my arms. He happily obliged, but once we walked towards the exit, he jumped out of my arms, ran towards the flower patch, and laid down there. “No it’s okay sweetie, I just want to give you a nice warm bed to sleep in tonight. We’ll find your family tomorrow, okay?” I told him. He still refused to budge. I tried carrying him out of the gates a few more times but each time, he would leap out of my arm and lay in the flower patch. Even if I didn’t carry him, he would refuse to follow me out of the gate. For a dog that looked at me with so much love in his big eyes, he sure did not want to go home with me. I checked my watch and it was close to midnight. Brownie seemed exhausted and I had to let him go home to take care of him. “Fine, you can stay here tonight,” I told him. “But we will be back here first thing in the morning to help you find your family, okay?” He just stared right back at me. I felt my heart crumple with guilt as I turned around and left the park with Brownie. I had only known this dog for less than an hour but it felt like I had abandoned him. Brownie looked sad to leave as well, but I couldn’t keep him out there all night either. The next morning, I recapped the events of our night-time adventure to my mom over breakfast. “I’ve never seen a fenced-up area at that park, it must be some kind of construction work,” she said, sounding quite surprised. “Maybe, but it didn’t look like there was any kind of work going on there at all,” I responded. “The garden seemed quite tranquil and well-maintained as if it were someone’s lawn.” “Who even leaves a dog at the park in the middle of the night?” “No idea, I know I felt awful leaving him behind but I had no other choice, he completely refused to come with me. He was a white schnauzer that looked like Samson and he seemed to like me while I was there.” Mom gave me a hard time, saying I should have tried to take the dog home with us and that there was no excuse to leave him behind to fend for himself. I know it was wrong of me to do so, but I had genuinely tried all that I could to lure him out. Annoyed with my bad decision, she decided to come with us to the park to help check on the dog. “Come on boy, take us through the shortcut again,” I told Brownie. Again, he sniffed around to find his bearings, but he looked back at me with confusion in his eyes. I sighed. “Fine, I guess we’ll have to take the long route.” 20 minutes of walking, sweating, and panting later, we finally made it back to the large park. My eyes searched all over for the fenced garden, but it was nowhere to be found. We walked around the park whistling, trying to catch the attention of the dog that was there the night before. A couple of passersby gave us judgmental stares, but we ignored them and focused on our search. I walked my mom over to the spot where the garden had been. The fencing was gone but the rainbow flower patch was still there. Mom walked towards the flowers and gently ran over them with her fingers. “Pretty, aren’t they?” she remarked. I nodded my head in agreement while Brownie started sniffing and licking the flowers. “When we buried Samson here, we planted these flowers to add a nice touch to his grave. I’m surprised they’ve lasted this long considering they were planted 2 years ago,” she said. My jaw dropped. “Th-this was where Samson was buried?” I stammered in shock. She nodded her head in sadness. “Yeah, we wanted him to have somewhere to run about and play in the afterlife... if it exists, of course.” I stood there in silence. “So where was the garden where you found the dog last night?” Mom asked, looking around the park. I slowly lifted my finger and pointed to the flower patch, “Right here.” Mom’s face went pale as we stared at each other in disbelief. I had always felt guilty over not being a good owner to Samson. I had moved across the country for college when he was only 4 years old; even though I’d come back to visit over breaks, I still felt like I had missed out on most of his life. Despite this, he was never angry with me and he was always ecstatic to see me every time I came home to visit. When he was diagnosed with cancer at just 8 years old, I immediately traveled home to see him. Even while he was ill and could barely walk, he was still upbeat, energetic, and over the moon to spend time with me. When I left a few days later, I held him for hours, crying because I knew that it would be the last time that I ever got to see him. Weeks later, my parents texted me that Samson had passed away peacefully in his sleep. The guilt of leaving him behind pained me every time I left, but it weighed heavily on me especially hard that last time. Even when I adopted Brownie over a year later, I still felt guilty about loving another dog. Somehow, maybe Samson’s spirit had held onto our world just to see me again one last time. If that were true, I finally understood why he was happy to see me but sad when he saw Brownie. I felt a tap on my shoulder breaking me out of my thoughts. “Look over there,” my mom pointed to the left. I turned my head to see a rainbow lighting up the sky and smiled. I’ve never really cared for rainbows, but this one filled my heart with warmth and love.