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doubledimpzz

@doubledimpzz

2 months ago
Photo by @doubledimpzz on August 12, 2026. May be a selfie of one or more people, makeup, eyeliner, eyeglasses, headscarf, turban and text.
Photo by @doubledimpzz on August 12, 2026. May be an image of one or more people and text.
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Posted On: August 12th 2026, 01:37 pm

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Out of focus, never out of place. 💨
And when I look back through all these years of footage, I like to imagine that perhaps it wasn’t time that turned him white at all. Perhaps it was people. One white hair for every child who screamed with excitement when they saw him. One for every sigh of relief as somebody buried their face into his fur. One for every laugh. Every tear. Every enormous smile from across the street. Every “I needed this today.” Every person who crouched beside him because they were happy, and every person who crouched beside him because they weren’t. Every hand that reached down for a quick stroke and stayed a little longer than it meant to. Every person who told us about the dog they had growing up. The one waiting at home. The one they still miss. He’s felt people shake with laughter. He’s sat quietly while people cried. He’s been squeezed, kissed, whispered to, thanked and sometimes simply held. Children. Grandparents. People celebrating. People grieving. People who were lonely. People who were ill. People rushing somewhere. People who just stopped for a moment. Winter mornings. Summer evenings. Rainy streets. Busy stations. Thousands of different people carrying thousands of different things. Huxley doesn’t know any of that. He doesn’t know their names or their stories. He doesn’t know whether they’re having the best day of their life or one of the hardest. He just knows that someone has opened their arms. And sometimes I wonder whether dogs absorb a tiny piece of every person who loves them. Or perhaps, with Huxley, it’s the other way around. Perhaps every person who has wrapped their arms around him has taken a tiny piece of his golden sunshine with them. Every kiss took a little gold. Every cuddle took another. Every laugh, every tear, every sigh of relief, every person who needed him for just a moment left carrying a little piece of Huxley. And in its place, another white hair appeared. Until, four years later, the bright ginger three-year-old in those first videos has become this soft, almost completely white seven-year-old. Maybe Huxley isn’t going grey. Maybe he’s simply spent four years giving his gold away.
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