Ice and snow are still on the ground in the backyard but a warm fire calls me to sit close and be warm and smile at the remains of this long winter. I am looking at muddy leaves that were never collected, a still frozen pond - stinky underneath, and imagining a green and colorful spread of lawn. I know on this warm cold March Sunday that it is within reach.
On my way to the Y today I drove past a dog who had just been hit by a car. The driver pulled over and stopped, but poor pup was hit so bad that he lay in the right lane of York Avenue in Edina shuddering and convulsing. His buddy, a tiny yapper ,was beside himself, running to and from the crime scene, screaming and crying. I knew I couldn't help but I turned around anyway.
On my second pass the good dog was clearly dead on the pavement. Three kids stood by with their hands in their pockets looking at him all curled up in death. They didn't know what to do but they didn't leave. They just stood, looking at the poor dead dog.
At home this evening after a long work out I can't help thinking about the family on York Avenue, and the sadness they are feeling. Good dog ran into a busy street and then the world will never be the same for those nice people, nor for the little yapper best friend, it is such a sad thing, losing a best friend.
The days are getting longer and my patience is growing shorter. Things change in an instant but on the other hand we sit on potential changes for decades and is that good or bad? Are we wasting time or honoring it? Are we procrastinating or enjoying? Avoiding possibilities or celebrating the comfort we know?
Dear family in Edina I am sorry for your loss, good dog.
Fire needs wood in the chilly March backyard, so off I go.
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