A Blind Dog

Last days are the worst. For the first time since you got here you are no longer living in the moment. You’re trying to but you know that this day has an agenda all its own. Soon, the packing up will begin. First, Pam will drive Patrick and Sarah to the airport. She will hug them tight then cry as she pulls away from the curb. It has been wonderful having them here. They have thoroughly enjoyed themselves. When Pam gets back from the airport, we will try to enjoy some dock and lake time on what promises to be another gorgeous sunny day in the low 80’s, before surrendering to the task of gathering up all our belongings, including all the new stuff we have accumulated since we arrived, and stuffing it all back into our car...hoping that all the doors shut.

But, we will leave our mark. The owner of this house has suffered a terrible loss, we discovered, the kind of loss that is unfathomable. We collected rocks from the yard and painted them. Last night we placed them around the property, hoping that maybe she will see them and take heart.

This morning our neighbor is swimming in the middle of our cove with her sweet little blind dog. They look to be around a hundred yards out, she dog paddling as the dog swims in circles around her. He loves the water because its the only place he can move around without fear of bumping into anything or falling off an edge. His silver eyes gloss over with joy as he follows her voice calling his name. The lake is the one place where he feels safe

I know how that blind dog feels.