gone

*I held her all the way in the car--wet dog smelling, limp, rolled up in a dark blue fluffy towel. It seemed that I could feel her ribs through the towel. He couldn't find a vein until the third leg. I never knew she had freckles there. I knew she could not see well and hardly could hear but that her sense of smell was still keen so I kept my hands and as much of my body as possible near her nose. Her muzzle rested on my palm. A bit of pink liquid and I felt her gone before he even placed his 'scope on her chest. My cheek nuzzled her as I kissed her good-bye. Blindly I found the door knob and stumbled out toward the car, pieces of her fur in my pocket. Through it all I kept my sunglasses pinched onto my spectacles to hide my swollen eyes, the tears dripping down my cheeks.The gem of this day is the remembrance of the pure joy she gave for seventeen years.

back, musings, head cold

*Arriving at my home airport. Riding the fast moving train. Finding my check in intact. Then out into the cold:precipitation action obsecures parts of the mountains and dances over the plains. The ride home in the car, the last integral of a happy trip.

*The day after, I muse about people I met.

*And now a head cold. An excuse to wrap myself in shawls, drink hot tea, not eat, and watch old movies.