Something Uncharacteristic of Self

Writing, I began to write after my dog Sarrah died.
For reasons unknown to me this became my way to cope with losing her and to absorb my time. Writing was never ‘My Thing”, I actually hated it while in school. After a year of writing daily I began taking classes, attending writing seminars and even started a blog.
It seems she led me down another path, perhaps one without an end.

Two or Three Times… Freedom

Years ago I drove by a little pond nestled between an outside bend of the Green River and a busy four-lane road.  This little pond surrounded by trees somehow maintains peacefulness despite having another two-lane road beside it cross the other and a small bridge over the river.  I drove on these roads to and from work two or three times a day for a few years.  Then my job changed and I only drove by two or three times per week, for a few more years.  I never stopped at this little pond with a totem pole, fishing docks for kids, couple of picnic tables, some benches and a gravel trail around it.

One day, driving by with a very young Sarrah she looked out the window at it (as I had more than two or three thousand times) and then at me, she began to get excited, we stopped.

Sarrah delighted in what I thought was harassing the ducks and geese that always seemed to be there, sending them swimming from one side to the other, two or three times each visit.  Perhaps she was simply intrigued by their freedom.

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Angel

A little dog lives on a shelf near my kitchen window, the rectangle of glass that I stand in front of while I wait.  Waiting for coffee to drip, food to cook and often be eaten at the sink underneath.  The main window where I quietly watch some of the world pass on by and think or try not to.

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Coffee cups, Calendars and Pictures are some of the Pop Culture commercial products that turn into gifts when you walk down the path of life with a pet.

Before Sarrah’s first Christmas She was given her own ornament.

Initially I thought this odd little white dog with black spots, beige and brown wings, a gold wire halo and string to hang it was strange, a dog ornament for a dog.

As newness of these trinkets wears off, they blend into cupboards, shelves, walls and some boxes along with the rest of a person’s possessions.  Quietly these items are not really even noticed for a few years and then they become souvenirs of a life.

The little Angel Dog that I once thought odd came out for Christmas 2010 and never went back.

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The Man in the Maze

Where do I go from here?

The Tohono O’odham people cherish the symbol of I’ITOI, the Man in the Maze.  I have seen this symbolic artwork many times on trips to southern Arizona.  It is of a man standing at the top of a circular tribal looking maze.  However, it wasn’t until my daughter Heather sent me a postcard from there did I possess one nor know the meaning (thanks to the brief explanation on the card).  Basically the symbol depicts a life; starting at the top following the path, acquiring knowledge, strength and understanding, nearer the middle one reflects back on wisdom gained as they move closer to the end in the center.  Initially she and in turn me were attracted to this one because the symbol is black on a white card, (I have long favored the illusion and absence of color).

I saved it and a couple of years later, while writing my story of Life with Sarrah more of the meaning found me.  Keeping it in the binder, I look at it often.

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