Quotes to like or puzzle over: “There comes a time when you realize that everything is a dream, and only those things preserved in writing have any possibility of being real.” ― James Salter, All That Is
When they die I think in Poetry Otherwise not Seems Pain is the only ink Between us then
I used to confuse her name with his The boy’s He said I didn’t know his name Couldn’t remember it
But it was the same With all of them The litany of names To call them out. The one
The same with the dogs She’s gone now Left after I asked her not to Yet stayed for a while after that
All black and gray now I sang her song Kisses all over my face She knew her name
Tula Died on Sunday, March 13, 2022. She would have been 12 on June 16. There’s no one here now who knows all of the songs: It’s Suppertime!; Lullaby and good night; Let’s go for a walk; Walkin’, Talkin’…
When it’s time, it’s time, but it takes so much along with it. No one tells you that.
Here’s my all-time favorite photo of her. It’s from when she was a pup and just learning things. She was so proud everytime she mastered something, and she loved this hoop to its very death. I was always sad I could never find another to replace it. But that’s OK. Later on in years she decided she would not bring anything back. No retrieving. Nope. Too adult for the childish nonsense. But then she decided she would only listen to instructions by choice. No blind obedience crap. I’m glad I honored her choices and her decision to be an equal partner in our relationship. It worked.
So the kid and I went to Bow Wow Lake for a romp and a swim. We had a fine time there and I earned back my Good Mum status. She is like the little kids whose lips turn blue and they stand shivering with arms crossed, insisting that they aren’t cold, aren’t tired, and certainly haven’t had enough time swimming. She would swim after a toy for hours and insist on just one more throw.
Tula returning the kong
Here she is, returning the toy for the hundredth time at least. I think it’s curious how dogs aren’t interested in just swimming as we humans do. Dogs need a purpose for the swim that they love.
And then, on a not so side note, I spent hours, days, trying to bring the iPhone photos in “My Photos” into WordPress. It was an easy thing, a simple thing. It only took an “Export Photo” under File to do it. Snap.
Sometimes my penchant for not reading instructions or trying the obvious—you know, that thing where you slow down and read—sometimes that is not at all entertaining.
This is an old photo of the current love—Tula. (Of course that’s only one name of many—a shortened form of Talulah.) This is in Colorado where we played in the Manitou stream. Alone or with others, sometimes many others. Where she first met moving water. And became a child of the creek.
We don’t get many chances to do something like that here. But there is a place—Bow-Wow Lake—where dogs can swim and play. And that’s where we’re going today. It’s been too many, many days where she has gone without a swim.
So today she’ll get the joy of the lake and I’ll get the joy of watching her. Double blessed.