Friday, February 26, 2010

Shadows in the corner move and blink. I see Lily’s eyes as she stares up at me from her flattened position on the tile floor. Hershey has sunk her chocolate ass onto Lily’s pillow, and Bandit tries to drop himself on the tattered cushion that I threw back together in haste at 2:30 in the morning when I got home from the bar.

They had torn its synthetic green foamy guts out and their doggy bed was now a withered gaping mess when I grabbed it and shoved stuffing back through the rips and tears, jammed it against the coffee table, then looked around at all the dogs looking at me. No joy here. No tails whipping back and forth or coil-bound legs ready to thrust a dog into my face.

Fine, sit on the worn out ruined remnants Bandit. Fine.

Lily lost her bed to Hershey, but I have to let the two of them arrange who goes where. I guess …

We all ran in the woods. I squeezed Ozzy into a little red sweater so I could find him more quickly. With short puggy legs and coloring that blends him perfectly with a snowy forest floor I often think he’s gone.

Lily and I went for a jog and she stopped a few times looking at the road, at me, around. What’s wrong Lily?

With the weekend will come more time to think about Lily.

No comments:

Post a Comment