Saturday, September 8, 2012

Just my Dog and Me



He sleeps on his bed in the corner of our room. A silent presence, watching. The slightest movement and his head raises. He finds my blanket covered form and he waits. I peek from beneath my sheets, wondering how many times I need shuffle my feet, before he will be at my side. Was not feet shuffling this morning, but the simple drop of my arm that beckoned him. 

Nuzzling my hand, begging for love, he turns in endless circles reaching for me, to rub the side of his face, his ear, his back. He licks my face, an invitation.

The coffee drips as he gobbles his food, and then he presses his nose to the glass in my kitchen door. The click of the deadbolt turning in the lock, pricks his ears and his tail bangs against my leg as I try to open the door before his wiggling frame. 
 
Sauntering out he leaps over rocks and grass before remembering me. A simple nod and he's off, bounding across the damp morning grass, chasing the birds and smelling the morning smells. Free, he shouts with every leap! Free, with every sniff and scamper!
Free! Free! Free! 

Settling onto the sofa, I curl my legs beneath me and sip. The sun casts a golden glow across the pillows and my heart is full. 
 
I hear him before I see. He bounds around the corner of the house, nudges the edge of my foot and then settles, sides heaving, tongue hanging. 
 
Just my Dog and Me.