Passing by on the same side

It was the toppled tall planter that first caught my eye.

I was walking into Cook Street Village, and passing a pizza shop, which does steady business most evenings, despite the fact that their food is rather awful, which is not relevant.

It was quite early in the morning, and the shop was shut.  As I strode by, I caught sight of the planter lying on its side, the soil spilling out, and the plant flat against the pavement.  It took a split second for my eye to register that someone was beside the plant, seated on the edge of the patio.

He appeared to be asleep.  Clad in a camouflage hoodie, he was bent double across his knees, like a jackknife.  There was a golden retriever lying next to him, alert and calm.

Although slightly taken aback, I thought little of it, until I retraced my steps about an hour later -- and the man was still there, in the exact same position.  The dog apparently hadn't moved either, paws folded, he or she gazed off into the middle distance, paying no attention to me, as I paused uncertainly.

I had an unsettling experience trying to intervene for benevolent reasons, about ten years ago. I started walking again, recalling the incident, and wondering if any action should be taken here.  The dog was a consideration.  If something were wrong (aside from a man sleeping in a jackknife position on the street first thing in the morning), wouldn't the dog be agitated or distressed?  Whom would I call?  Would they take the dog?

I continued up the hill, unsettled, on my way to give Demeter her breakfast.  The day, as it does, swept me away.  

Later, I passed the pizza shop, and there was no sign of him.  The planter was righted, the patio swept clean.