Old Dog

She stood forlorn in the dewless grass while an almost warm wind or breeze blew through the early-morning yard.  The porch light was on and things were clear, but she looked about as if she were lost.  The other dogs were in the house already and I suspected that she was trying to see something moving about so she might know that she wasn’t alone.  I opened the door and called to her, but my voice didn’t register; I whistled and she remained there, looking around, wondering.  Her younger playmate ran down the stairs and out into the yard and seemingly on purpose, bumped the side of his body into hers, startling her, but letting her know that she wasn’t alone, telling her that she could come in now.  And so she sleeps…in her winter years….

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4 responses

  1. Becky

    So nice to know that we are not alone either…sweet story

    December 15, 2011 at 7:59 am

    • No, we are not alone either, Becky, most of us…probably. Thank you…and thank you for visiting again. 🙂

      December 15, 2011 at 6:44 pm

  2. Thanks for this. It brings back fond memories of one of my own ‘winter years’ dogs.

    December 19, 2011 at 8:38 am

    • Most welcome, Lori T. 🙂

      December 19, 2011 at 7:18 pm

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