Mar 22, 2014 Awake in Dream Time - Journal Entries about the almost real, the surreal and the unreal
Canine Comfort
©March 22nd, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
A dark presence hovered at the door.
It had no emotions attached to it, save one. It wanted something. It was in a state of NEED, urgent, voiceless need.
Atavistic it was, and it called upon its ancestors.
Behind it, silently, appeared the ghosts of need.
The pack shifted behind the dark presence.
Somewhere, in another time and another place, an ancestor lifted its dark head and called into the tundra.
Somewhere close by, in a cave, someone awoke and stiffened against the ghosts of the night. Death was always close. The person in the cave reached for a piece of meat and threw it out into the shadows. There was a padding and a scuffle. a growl, a snarl and a chase. Then, a snuffling, a chomping and a tearing of meat. The ancestor crept into the cave. There was a small fire there. The ancestor liked that. It came closer. The human held her breath. Then, the ancestor lowered itself to the floor by the mouth of the cave, thumped its tail briefly and closed its eyes.
The human was strangely comforted. She pulled her baby close to her, and her male, who grunted in his sleep, turned over and snored, oblivious to all that had occurred.
She felt complete.
The night faded. The time and place disappeared into the mists.
Here, now, at the door, a dark presence, a cloud of need waited. It looked at me, mutely.
I opened the door. I let out my dog. She went out, sniffed the night air, attended to her needs, said a farewell to her ancestor, and came back in. The radiator drew her, and she lay down, sighed her sigh of contentment, thumped her tail briefly, then closed her eyes.
I felt comforted. My child and my husband were up and about, doing human things. I looked at my dog. She settled into quiescence, sank into placidity. One eye opened and looked at me. She needed me to be close. I needed her to be close.
I felt complete.
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Tags: ancestor, canine, Chronicles of Holly, human and dog, need
Mar 22, 2014 Awake in Real Time: Coffee-induced Meditations and Journal Entries
Spring-Dog
(Chronicles of Holly — End of Week Five)
©By Vijaya Sundaram
March 22, 2014
Today, a breath of warmth and coolth wafted over our backyard.
A signal it was, a promise of, as we like to say, new beginnings.
It’s a contradiction, though, because, once there’s been a beginning, it’s the only one of its kind. Still, quibbling aside, it felt like a new beginning, a sense of green shoots of our dead selves pushing up anew through the ground,
Our memories being short-term, we welcome the first breath of Spring, as if we’ve known no other. Despite this, an ancestral memory stirs our blood, and our nostrils flare. If we had paws and a snout and a tail, we’d know what to do — we’d pad over to the back door, scratch eagerly, be let out and chase our tails and perhaps, a bird for the sheer joy of being alive on a spring day.
A dog is good for this.
A dog knows what to do. There are no agonies of indecision, no “Should I do this, or something else more mundane and tedious?”
So, this morning, I embraced my inner Dog and my real Pup, and we sallied forth into a cool, bright Spring day. Holly was happy, and her tail was a flag of pride and pleasure. Her snout took in everything. Her paws seemed to just lightly touch the earth — she seemed to be fashioned out of sky and air and rain-cloud. Her eyes were bright, and she grinned in her imp-like way. We walked to the park.
You can imagine the rest.
———————————– Another new Beginning ——————————–
Tags: Chronicles of Holly continued, Spring-days with pup, Walk to the park with dog