Friday, December 16, 2011

Dear Uncle Sheldon

Hi Uncle Sheldon; it's been a while since we've talked. Tonight, I talk to you in cyber space. On this night, the world of voyeurs, stumblers and others who consider to know me stumble upon this blog shall read our conversation. It is about time the world began to know you in my life.

You and I, our love of dogs has always been immense. I miss seeing your hands mold to a hyper dogs face..mouth, stroke your hands over their eyes and calm them in a way that made rushing creeks be still.

Tonight, I need to be the dog that the rushing creeks stills for.

When we were young, you and I, we rode in that Ford Comet down an unstraight line to a destination only you found solace in. I waited in the car, sometimes for hours. But I waited. And I found that solace, safe place in that car, waiting.

You used to tell me, actually, you often told me that love is worth every blood soaked cent you had in your pocket. Yet, you qualified it by saying only a dog would wait for that scent in your pocket to know you would return. A dog knew you by the scent in your pocket, not in your crotch, which was the grand misconception of dogs.

I wonder if you were trying to tell me all those years that my dog would be the one that kept my heart. I followed in almost all of your footsteps, and those I couldn't, I regret.

You knew how my life would be, somehow, all those years ago. You tried to tell me.

Just, I wonder, all those times, why you didn't let me know the only thing loyal to me would be waiting in my car while I did groceries, bank errands, mundane unimportant things, would be my dog.

See you some day soon, Uncle Sheldon.

Lyrics in my *our* head

You say that you're leaving
Well that comes as no surprise
Still I kinda like this feeling
Of being left behind

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