Echoes of A Departed Dog

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Out of the corner of your eye you wonder if she is at the door.
When it rains, you wonder if she is OK; in or out? needs drying?
Before you leave, you check where she is.
If she isn’t in the kitchen, you peer into the living room.
You lock all the yard gates for no reason.
If others will be late, you still think to feed her between 5:30-6.
It gnaws that instead of whatever you are doing,
you should at least be taking her for a walk.
You realize the privilege of having witnessed, perhaps assisted, Nature’s intent to exemplify pure life, pure will, pure thought, and pure love.
You recall one of the few useful things a Western philosopher (Schopenhauer) has observed:

“How is a man to get relief from the endless dissimulation, falsity and malice of mankind, if there were no dogs into whose honest faces he can look without distrust?”

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