it began as a thought...

He isn't the same. He comes at you with claws. Dylan turned his wrist to me and said, "Look what he has been doing to me?"..."I know..." and showed him my hand. Scratch marks, from Star, who now sits at the end of my bed, mildly, almost mournfully. There is no one around anymore. Well, we are. But with Huxeley gone (to Mary and Jim's house because Jim's shihtzu died and he retired, with heart problems..and anyway, at the time...) but that was so long ago it seems.

It happened tonight. Laying in bed reading. Dylan across the hall. A body pump class in forty minutes. What on earth impelled (propelled?) me to want a dog. To look at the Central Missouri Humane Society's web site. To begin researching the breeds available? (temperament, etc...What?)

Dylan came into my room and leaned against the end of my bed, kneeling.."So we'll go down tomorrow after school?" he asked, adding, "I've always wanted a dog."


"We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults. Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment." George Eliot

(reading through the bible this year..well, reading through the bible...anyone else?...anyone?)

daily beasts (this is life! part one)

They talk in muffled voices by her car. The day is glorious, full of  sunshine. An airy breeze rustles the leaves which float from trees, land in the streets and are scuttled along by the wind. His hands ball up in fists, he stands rigid. He pulls his arms up to his chest and snaps them straight again. Her voice trails along on the wind, she is calm, explaining. There is a sharp "Don't leave, don't leave." said under his breath, he steps towards the car, she pulls back and out of the drive. The fig is in the back, tucked snugly into his car seat. She drives away. He stands there for a moment, shoulders slumped as I sit in this chair and a half, nosily watching it all, knowing that there is nothing I can do to help. He turns and walks back up the short hill to the house, passing by as I ask, "Is there anything I can do?" A mixture of anger and hurt color his face. "No." He says mildly, walking around the corner and down the hall.

This is the ongoing drama at our house.

                                                                           

And later, a grrrrowl is heard in the house. Then another.  We no longer have a dog (hm????). The neighbor's dog begins to bark in our hallway. The cats scramble.  I jump up from the chair, papers scatter on the floor. The dog  hears me and runs to the open  back slider where the neighbor deftly picks him up, smiles, apologizes profusely and carries him home. Turning back into the house I laugh at the dog. Levity! This is life! and the sun continues to shine as the day wears on.