Friday, July 09, 2010


"You are sentimental," he said. Because I kissed your harness before I gave it to the dog pound. It was not premeditated. It's just that it was yours and its synthetic feel reminds me of the softness of your fur, the curls in front and the caramel color which has now made me like orange, even though that used to be my least favorite color. Well, at least it's more of a rust-colored orange. Can't be going over to the other camp entirely.

Did you see how big the swan babies have gotten? The last day we walked together they were new. Mr. Swan was so protective the other day that he almost ate a small dog. You wouldn't have blinked an eye. Not you, the brave one who swam after the swan after you jumped/fell in the canal. He had his wings spread and was glorious in his whiteness, otherwise I would have noticed that you were walking too close to the edge. He came at you in full regalia but you steadfastly swam on, head on. A swan knows when it sees determination, I guess, because he hightailed it, or rather tucked in his tail and headed South. Not that that deterred you. As a mother I was fretful on the sidelines, but as a dog-in-spirit I was urging you on. Fearless. Luckily you stopped before the bridge and were willing to be pulled out, by your sturdy, red harness. You were feeling cooler after a swim, and quite a bit wet. You smelled of dog, wet dog, a wet dog with dry grass clinging to him, but exhilarated and I confessed to a desire to roll in the grass with you. I didn't though, I just kissed your harness at the kennel door. After all, it was the least I could do.

1 comment:

Phivan said...

Oh, Kim.

I love the smell of dog and miss it more than I can say. I love that you are a dog-in-spirit.

Yesterday, I moved my fridge to clean under it and found a bunch of dog food pellets, and completely lost it. Shows you how often I clean... :-)