Sunday, October 3, 2010

Cold Concrete

This morning it was 46 degrees when I got up. Jake always loved the first cool crisp morning of fall. I mentioned my dog Jake in my blog post yesterday. Coincidently, yesterday was the first time since Jake’s death last June that I got up and went to the back door as if to let him out. I don’t know what prompted this. It was the first time that I had slept the entire night for many weeks. Perhaps I dreamt about Jake and didn’t remember. Jake was a Samoyed. Samoyed’s are sled dogs and great athletes. As sled dogs, they are equipped to deal with very cold, snowy conditions. Jake's toes were webbed to run better in snow. He had a dual layered coat to stay dry and warm in cold, wet conditions. Sammies are faster than Malamutes, but stronger than Huskies which usually puts them somewhere in the middle of a sled team. On normal summer days in Texas, Jake would go outside, stride briskly to his preferred spot of the day, do his business and run back to the door. For Jake's comfort and safety, I always took the position that if I was too warm, Jake was too warm. He spent most of his time with us, in the air conditioning. Days like today were special for Jake. He would go outside and raise his nose, twitch his ears a couple of times, look at me and start sprinting around the yard. He was so fast and agile, even as a senior dog, it was a sight to see. As he would make his laps around the yard, he would slow just briefly as he passed me as if to say, “Isn’t this great?” Jake was a great dog that always loved to play. I miss him, particularly on crisp fall days when the breeze is fresh and the concrete patio is cold on my bare feet.

Keep playing Jake, I’m not that cold.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

My Friend

I came to the airport to have breakfast with my friend. I’ve had a lot going on lately and sometimes you just have to say things out loud to work through them. Sometimes the things I say don’t make any sense. I ramble on about one thing then another. Occasionally I talk about things I’ve seen at work, horrific accounts of things most people wouldn’t want to listen to. Sometimes we discuss my health or my beautiful family. I confess my failings and vow to do better. My friend doesn’t judge or question. She just stares at me with a knowing look of unconditional love and acceptance. We sit in our shady spot and share a couple of apples. My friend is a bay filly that I call Sugar. I don’t know her real name and she doesn’t seem to mind. Sugar is normally in the pasture, just east of the tower at the Denton Airport. Today she was not there. I called her on the PA in the truck and watched the tree line. I expected her to walk out and come to the fence like she always does. I waited but no luck.

I recently heard someone say that those who doubt the existence of God have not spent enough time studying nature. I say that one of the ways God clearly reveals himself to us is in the eyes of a horse. I’ve had dogs who were great friends, most recently 15 years with Jake, our Samoyed who died last June. Jake was a great friend and family member but I’ve never felt, with any other animal, what I feel with a horse. Hopefully, Sugar is visiting friends or getting her hooves trimmed or something like that. If she is not there next time, I may have to find another horse friend for my morning therapy sessions. Sugar won’t mind because where ever she is; she is helping some confused soul to understand their existence.

I have two apples in a paper bag behind the seat. I hope my bay filly comes back before they go bad.