One place we walked, there was a rock and many dogs pissed on it. I learned this because Ozma smelled that rock, smelled it over and over. However even on with my puny human senses could figure it out eventually. One day we must've gotten there just after another dog; they were still traces of wet on the top of the rock. If we been there 10 minutes later, they would have been invisible.
In many ways, my memories of Ozma are like that piss. Crude, yes, but that's me. What I mean by that is there was a time when the memories and the pain really fresh. Anyone, even a human, could see the markings. However, with time they've gone invisible. Your table to smell the pain, smelled memories, nor to realize they're there. You have to have subtler senses to realize the loss of love. Of course, now that I've said that, I'm flooded with memories. It's like once I catch scent of something, the whole history comes back. I'm thinking of a walk, half a dozen, a dozen, more than a dozen walks, all in fragments all at once I'm thinking the time we saw the pagan architects. The spiral built out of sticks. When thinking of the time we swim in the lake, and got buzzed by a bald eagle. The thinking of the last time we went swimming with a stick. When Ozma would try and try to get it in her mouth and she caught it once and she spent it back once, then twice, always chewing always replacing and always shifting it, try to find a place where it was comfortable and not bleeding. I'm thinking of the time we chased rabbits, the time we chased a great blue heron the time we chased cats are arms and paws and leashes outstretched to make one great wide organism running to attack a terrified cat – I left it a place to escape, I didn't really want to catch it -- the time Ozma and I was rolled on the bank and she got a fish hook in her, and we had to walk us back frantic that her was hurt and it was my fault.
For all these memories are like dog markings on the rock, waiting for a nose to realize them, waiting for someone who can smell to be able to know that they're there.
And right now, everything is covered with snow.
That's all.
1 comment:
Brother, reading this brings the flood of tears & pain back that I hoped to avoid. Am I an idiot for reading some of Ozma's Blog? I took the risk & it was worth it to think back upon the recent loss & know their worth. Mica has been gone for 1 year and 3 months now & each day things fade a little more until the scent triggers a food of memories & tears.
Post a Comment