Wishful Echo


Love is reciprocal. It is an echo of feelings and at least tough commitment, to the other from the one, from the one to the other.

I know my companions; Bonnie and Diamond loved me though legally each belonged to someone else. Dogs don’t know from legal they just go with it.

What made them choose to hover near me, protect me, comfort me and I in similar measure for them both? I had the sandwiches. They also drank my tea. In reality I requested to be their guardian.

Here we are me and two gymnastic dogs, ricochet love, messy baths, and romps where intelligent girls expended their tightly wound energy and thrust speedy minds into overdrive deciding what to do next.  For the ride home both curled up next to me dog tired.

I catch a memory every time I visit those spots where we used to cavort.

The places do not reverberate with their liveliness. The gravitational oomph has changed.

Sometimes I hear their lovely voices, a recollection, perhaps a wish.




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