I have started a morning routine of skipping rope. 10 minutes, right upon waking, in an outdoor area beside the apartment gym.

On Monday, I saw a middle-aged man walking his dog along the path near me. We didn’t exchange words but the two were memorable: the brown poodle was well-groomed and had a long face, just like its owner.

On Tuesday, I saw them again. This time, the poodle saw me skipping and wagged its tail. The man and I exchanged a smile. If it were not for my set, I would have tried to pat it. They continued slowly down the path, clearly accustomed to the route.

On Wednesday I wasn’t able to skip due to an exam.

Today is Thursday and we met again. This time, the man looked happy to see me as well. Although I had two minutes left in my set, I decided petting the dog was more important. Its fur was as soft as a cloud, without a speck of dirt. Its name tag read ‘Bryan’ – a great name. We parted again without a word, though I swear Bryan’s tail wagged a bit more down the path today.

I look forward to meeting them again tomorrow.