Old Friend

Daily Note

Every day, a photograph, a poem. Pooka [lucky spirit], lived a long life with us. We still miss her loyal and patient antics. She was a lazy, perfect friend, a purebred “Rezmut.” That’s a “reservation mutt.” She looked like a white lab— with ears that could flop or stand up like a German Shepherd. Her tail looked Husky. But she was all “lucky spirit” to us. She had followed me while picking up the safety cones after school picnic on the last day of school so many years ago. A colleague said, “You better take her home or she’ll die here.” So, of course, since it was almost Fathers Day and Scott loves dogs, I packed her into the passenger seat to bring her home. Just before driving away, my colleague said, “I hope she doesn’t get car sick.”

She did not, and she traveled with us everywhere— a perfect dog who would wait quietly and patiently on the bed in a hotel room. Really— she was so lazy and patient. All she needed was a morning and an evening walk, and even then, she watched us and waited for the signs to go.

And so a poem…

Poetry

Old Friend

I miss
the questioning brown eyes,
shift of the tail,
patient paws crossing,
waiting for our move –
standing up,
a look out the window,
stepping towards the door,
or that sound,
“Walk.”

Sheri Edwards
05.26.23 147.365.23
Poetry/Photography [See-Frame-Focus]

Our little dog, a purebred Rezmut [reservation mutt], old and tired, in a favorite spot: under a tree by the water. She loved to swim, and she loved our grandkids, letting them hold her tail while she swam and pulled them around the lake. She was the perfect, rolling in anything, walk through every puddle, dog and friend.

We talk every day about getting another small dog. One who would chase the deer and turkey out of the yard. The deer eat all our plants; the turkey grab the cat food for the three stray cats that meander by every morning and evening who we somehow felt the need to feed.

But, can we keep up with the needs of a dog? It’s a tough question at our age.

#clmooc #smallpoems