Layers

Today, when they pass, people see a middle age woman and an old dog. They weren't there the day the Los Angeles Pound had an adoption fair and that lady saw the little puppy stumbling around on short legs. In an instant, she was smitten. There is no way to know how these moments of falling in love arise so instantaneously, but arise they do. It might have been the sad eyes, or the ridiculous motion of a little body on uncertain legs, or perhaps the long ears. Whatever it was, within seconds of their connection, little did they know they would be with each other for the next 15 years. Today, when they pass, people see a geriatric dog, they don't see an athlete who could run hard and fast for miles, and leap across creek beds. They don't see the goofy girl who would for years entertain those around her by showboating her chase and throw skills, all by herself, responding with open mouth and cocked head at the laughter. They miss the dog that loved to look at you through the mirror and then back at you in person, wagging her tail furiously, as if she was discovering both you and the mirror for the first time. That trick would go on countless times, ceasing to get old. Today, when they pass, people see a dog that is remote in her advanced years. They weren't there in the truck with her and the lady, moving from house to house, from Los Angeles to Sacramento, Sacramento to South Dakota and South Dakota to San Diego singing songs, heads in the wind and holding onto each other. They don't see the dog who loved the lady's mom, staring longingly at her and putting her head in her lap for the soft pets. They don't see the pup that was ever watchful and knew exactly how to handle it when this mom died. She was a blanket for her lady that day, never leaving her side, head buried deep in folded arms. Today, when they pass, what people see is a middle age woman and an old dog, and what they see is true. Over the years, from young adulthood and puppyhood to middle age and the golden years, they have stayed together. They are a part of each other now. They are family, made of one strand. Sisters, mothers, and best friends. Woven together by time and experience and love. Today, when they pass, what people see is a middle age woman and a geriatric dog but what they might not know is that these are two souls who rescued each other.

Me and Bella circa 2011