We waved goodbye to Emil. He had just visited Tilde and looked back at us one last time from the car's rear window. One of the best things of returning to Copenhagen is to see the two of them reunite for a play date. They are more than best friends. Tilde adores him. He is her shining star and idol. If Tilde would have been a teenage girl, the walls of her room would be covered with posters of Emil.
When you love someone, leaving is the hard part and Tilde is no exception. I had locked her inside the house while we send Emil off. Last time the sight of Emil leaving prompted her to jump the fence and run onto the road and after the driving car. She only didn't make it to the cross-section where there is a lot more traffic because she had to say hello to a dog walking with his person, luckily for me, and I could grab her after a 100 meter dash. The first time ever, I thanked the universe on my knees for her short attention span.
Returning inside, I replayed the fun we had during our walk and laughed quietly about Tilde's flirt attempts. I started my laptop to do some work and didn't give it much thought when I opened the window to the rear to get some fresh air in. All I noticed was a fast moving black shadow from the corner of my eyes. When I looked up at the window, I could just see the glimpse of a dog tail waving "Thank you and goodbye!"
With Tilde out of the window into the back garden I rushed to the front door but came too late, She already made the turn and was dashing through the front garden towards the road.
"Hierrrrr!", I yelled. In the panic of the moment I called after her in my native language, Dutch. Not something Tilde understands. She talks Danish. But the surprise and the rolling R in my perfect Dutch pronunciation made her stop and look over her shoulder, probably wondering what on earth caused me to throw a tantrum.
She sized me up, or better said, was outweighing the treats I might have carried compared to the urge to run after Emil. I knew I was only given that one second and with no treats to show for, my defeat was as good as certain.
A pigeon pair in the corner of the garden joined our conversation, and maybe Tilde doesn't talk Dutch, but she sure talks pigeon, and she made a run for the pigeon pair. I followed close after, and could grab her by her collar in one of my not so video worthy emergency get-Tilde dives.
And that's another happy ending of a "Tilde, no!" chapter. Miraculously.
I leave you with a short impression of an earlier play date of the lovebirds: