In Every Brook, Bo - On Every Path

Bo, my little bunny dog, I am watching the backyard, and how beautiful it is. So lovely, so stirring, I had to put on the Tallis Scholars, and stand watchng the wind move the long grass uphill, the clouds passing overhead casting their large, swift shadows over the scene, passing by quickly, but one after another. These are the moments when time stands still and eternity feels omnipresent, and in that strange and uplifted consciousness we find the places we love best, places in the heart, and the souls we long for are present in every way but form.

I could see you there Bo, and how much my heart quakes and tenses, with the anguish of loss and the joy of remembrance. you were so much to me (and always will be). People can say what they want, about the physical form you took, that I'm some sort of loser to love a dog so much. What do they know, Bo? I mean, shouldnt we just feel sorry for those who need to place hierarchical value - not only on love, but on how someone else loves?

We have a secret, you and I...

And so this poem came to mind, you know, the one I used to read on the net, when someone else's dog had died, and I'd sit here crying like a fool, and you'd go get me a few toys to stop the tears - you remember it, Bo? I don't know why it got me by the heart, moreso than all the others, but maybe it was the last line, and maybe in some quiet moment of prescience I knew today was coming - when I'd be making Dan's food, and listening to the CBC, and the bed under the computer room desk would be achingly, terrifyingly empty.

We Have A Secret

We have a secret, you and I

that no one else shall know,

for who but I can see you lie

each night in fire glow?

And who but I can reach my hand

before we go to bed

and feel the living warmth of you

and touch your silken head?

And only I walk woodland paths

and see ahead of me,

your small form racing with the wind

so young again, and free.

And only I can see you swim

in every brook I pass

and when I call, no one but I

can see the bending grass.

Author Unknown

In every brook, Bo - in every corner of this house, in every memory I can find... your sweet little smiling face.