It is quiet this morning, the leaves are not rattling on their limbs as the air is still, the dogs in the yard to the left are still inside their warm beds, and the streets are still sleeping at this early hour on a Saturday morning at five am. A lone squirrel travels the branch of the big oak in the backyard savaging for acorns to stash away for the long cold winter before us. Otis, my mixed breed who truly thinks he is a human fur-child is sitting a few feet away from where I sit holding onto my mug of java and smoking a menthol cigarette. It should be a typical morning for us, we do this seven days a week, sit together looking at the stars, feeling mother Earths air upon our faces, the wind sometimes blowing our hair, and just sitting. I use this time to remember, dream, forgive, or at times even forget, but just to search my soul and let my mind take me where ever it wants to. Otis I can’t say for sure, but I feel he is doing just the same as I am , just thinking and relaxing while sniffing the air awaiting the day’s full beginning when the world awakes and the quite and soothing time we are now sharing turns into the every day hassles it usually becomes. Our mornings are the clam before the storm, our time to be still, our time to be together, and our time just to be.
Things in our house are in no way what I would call predictable, but we have routines; we have early morning routines, later morning routines, afternoon routines evening and night routines as well. The narrative of Otis and me alone with Mother Nature in our backyard before the sun has even risen is a typical early morning routine. Our later morning routine was just slightly different as it included another fur-child of mine, Sandy. She older than Otis by six years, lab –Sheppard mix, a bit over weight, but what lady these days doesn’t consider herself overweight compared to the models of today? She with her light tan and white her short course fur was beautiful anytime of day or night, but more so when she laid her frame upon the green grass with the sunshine beaming down on her. She would have this smile that she shared with the world and you could not help but feel a smile break out on your awn face when she looked at you.
She like many children these days came from a broken home and came to be my child in the year of nineteen ninety nine; and left me on October thirtieth two thousand seven to run and smile upon the stars and heavens that Otis and I now sit and gaze upon during those early hours each day, but now we look upon them with sorrow in our hearts and sadness in our eyes longing to once again gaze upon the beautiful baby girl that was once a significant part of our daily lives and routines, our playmate, our buddy, and now our lost friend.
Today, Saturday, is not one of our typical days; no day has been what Otis and I would consider typical since Monday. Otis and I both know there will come a time again in the future when we consider a morning such as this morning typical, but in our hearts we know it will be some time before we do. You see, although this early morning time we share belongs to just us, there was a time, last Monday to be exact in which we would come out here once again but we would bring our “baby girl” Sandy with us.
Sandy was our friend, our companion, our “baby-girl” all one-hundred and ten pounds of her. Although Otis has had his moments and I will tell you about them as we go alone, Sandy was the one that could always make you laugh all the while spitting out a mouthful of sandy colored fur that would always find it way into anything and everything as she bounced and pranced around with a huge smile on her face of yellow and white.
This is in memory of my "Baby Girl" Sandy who I lost October 30, 2007, written three days after her passing. I still can’t believe it has been an entire year, and yet I still look for her, think of her, and I still miss her terribly and wish for just one more hug of fur and a wet smooch.
