The rumbling in the distance goes unnoticed until two black dog faces look beseechingly at me to DO something! They feel the world shaking, they feel the unease that we humans can ignore as we make conversation, share ideas, get out our notebooks.
The dogs are silent witnesses, curled by the fire with ears cocked, listening.
I miss my dog Niki. Yellow face and probing eyes. She was there when I needed comfort, a head to be patted. Did she like being patted on her bony head? I think she preferred being scratched around her ruffly neck but she tolerated any affection we would give her, glad for the attention, happy to be a part of the human pack.
But in the evening on the porch, I’d watch her. She’d tip her nose up into the wind and pull her ears back. She tuned into the wild world beyond our grassy yard. I felt I barely knew her at these times. What did she hear? A fox in the underbrush? Long legged deer slowly walking across the field? The hollow, deep sound of an owl?
Soon, she’d slip down off the porch and disappear into the darkness. Even on three legs she was drawn to the wild. An hour would go by and I’d begin to worry. I’d call and call her name into the dark night and finally the yellow face would appear coming up our front hill. Panting, soaking wet, muddy paws, she’d collapse on the porch. I’d wonder where she’d been and wish I could go with her to explore a world I will never know.
-BMO'N
1 comment:
I miss Niki too. Your entry has left me with wet eyes. Niki was just as much a part of the extended family as any of us. I look back through the pictures I have of her and smile. I'll send them on to you.
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