She's a Girl

Her name is Bear. She was given that name because she grunts like a Bear when she's happy. She sort of sings when she's eating a bone. Grunting and humming to herself in complete and utter contentment. And everyone thinks she's a male dog. She's a big, beautiful American Field Black Labrador Retriever. She's 2 and a few months. She's still got a load of puppy in her and she's the best fetcher I know. She runs faster, tries harder, jumps higher and wants that stick more. She's that dog Bear!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Rain

Image
2:20p The sun has arrived for a short visit. Dark clouds gather over Marlboro and the slender threads of light pierce through atmosphere heavy with moisture. We swim through the woods in this heady oxygen rich landscape. The leaves have grown fingernail sized and pale translucent green to dinner plate sized dark green shade for the lush canopy above me. The woods are spongy with water. Trees are giving up their purchase in the soil, first leaning against their neighbors and then, finally, falling to the ground. Huge and full of life. Not diseased just overwhelmed by water. I get that. I am overwhelmed too. We all are. People have left their rain boots and coats in the back hall. We have given into the wet on our collars and the fine fringe of damp in our hair. What's a little dampness at this point? We are all comrades in this gathering of clouds settled over our heads. The Mountain is obscured. And everywhere there is the noise of rushing water. Water runs racing to the rive...
Read more

Coarse Scent of Winter

The acid tang of autumn leaves mingles with dry air - wet dog - we walk along the path to the ski jump. The rain has swept the leaves off and away leaving nothing. Crystalized mud crunches beneath my feet we move quickly up the trail. There is no moment wasted. Every day I see new signs. They are only new to me.  Each walk in the woods, thoughts drift through my mind, changing the focus of my vision. The stone lodged up high in the branches of a leggy hemlock. Another day silent mystery of a swooping owl. Slate quarry Brackish water has a skim of ice today. The wind breaks it up and there is a soft skree skree shushing  - the dog- tests the air with her muddy snout. Winter symphony take my heart to the certain knowledge that I belong.
Read more