Some things just don't fit. When your dog disappears, vocabulary is too snug; requires unbuttoning. There is no trace of predator, no trace of accident, no trace of unfortunate event. Coyote, car, snake -- there is none of that. She does not roam away from home. Ever. We have called and driven and walked and made signs. Leah made a list of places to look, and clues, and kept asking, But what's different about today? And the answer is nothing. Nothing but the missingness.
We keep expecting her to show, keep looking sideways out the front door, over to where her bed and an unopened bag of dog food wait for her return. My head feels cloudy, as though there is something that will suddenly become clear: Oh yeah, I forgot, she's in the ....
Yesterday, a turkey ambled through our yard, mingled with the chickens for a bit, and went on her way. I might normally take this as a sign of good fortune -- a Thanksgiving shout out from Mother Nature. Instead it just seemed weird and haunted. Nothing fits.
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Seeing Gardens Differently
5 hours ago
6 comments:
Oh dear, sorry to hear about that. I hope the dog will return! (I wrote an answer to your question in my comments.)
Oh, heartbreaking! :-( Come home old friend!!
Thanks, y'all. A somber Thanksgiving, but we are warm and Charlie Brown is on, so there's that. We've not quite transitioned out of the disbelief stage.
So sorry to hear.
Allison told me the news; We are thinking of you all and hope the best.
Rob
Thanks Julia, Rob. Lee found and buried her yesterday. It has been a tough week.
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