Ode to SandyPosted by on June 4, 2015
We said goodbye to our Office Assistant and loyal hound, Sandy. Thanks to our Nonfiction Editor Mary Ann Hogan for writing this post.
The lolling tongue, slopping south sometimes, as she balanced in the back of that moving pickup; other times, dangling square-on, as she said, in her own words, in her own way, let’s go, already
The twitching face, nostrils puffing in, out, in, out, in again; the damp, fleshy triangle of the nose itself wriggling– something in the breeze teasing, beckoning; the rustling grass; the random tree, the kicked-up dust along some mysterious trail she traveled.
“What do you smell, Girl?”
Another dog was here! A squirrel – a possum — popped by last night! There are worms and crickets afoot!
Animal Science tells us that a dog’s nose can detect occurrences light years beyond our imagining. Could it be that the flared nostrils–the twitching nose–smelled crustaceans from millennia ago, food for foraging indigenous peoples who lived on this land centuries before we arrived? Like Buck, in London’s Call of the Wild, “[S]he was sounding the deeps of [her] nature, and of the parts of [her] nature that were deeper than [s]he, going back into the womb of Time.”
Part of her lived in “the womb of Time.” But time passed. We arrived. And with us, our dogs. And so came the waggle of the tail, telling us I am pleased. Sometimes it was a fur-covered metronome, back and forth, back and forth; other times, wayward rhythms of hopefulness or gratitude, I waggle, it waggles, because I thank you.
And more than that, because I love you.
A noble creature, more than wayward images or history, a life shared for nearly 15 years, a spirit we all share still.
Her name was Sandy.