The sun slipped behind a dark cloud, and for a moment I felt
the gentle rain cry down. I closed my
eyes and listened to the large droplets patter across the dried leaves. I
opened my eyes and looked to the Bog Willows and four year old Maples whose
leaves were a deep gold and red.
In my mind I saw as the ghost of time replayed their planting: Uriah grabbing a sapling running off with a happy bounce, expecting, hoping I would chase him down. Zeus ran in a circle teasing Uriah with his favorite stuffed toy hanging from his mouth. Samson barked at the trees keeping real and imagined foes hidden in the trees.
Pain shimmered as reality stopped and slid around me like
the mists that form over the dew laden grass.
Maple leaves clapped in the reappearing blue sky and sunshine,
and a warm breeze drifted past.
I felt the ghosts of
my dogs move through the tall grass. I heard them panting as they ran, happily barking and playing between the trees, sounds that drifted from my memory into this warm October afternoon.
I fell to my knees as tears streamed down my face. I stroked Uriah’s thick fur gently as he lay panting. He looked up at me then looked away towards the trees. I felt we were both hearing the same echoes.
He drank from his water bowl. I whispered how happy I was to have known him
and what a good dog he had been.
He didn’t cry. I was the one who moaned as I pulled myself upright, leaning on my cane, he watched with a worried look and tried to stand.
I told Uriah I loved him so much, and it was time to run and
play with Samson and Zeus, and one day we will all walk together again.
I helped him into the house, where he fell asleep and never woke up.
When Uriah died tonight I thought of everyone here, and how much this blog kept me writing. I hope everyone is doing well.