Friday, May 8, 2020

Brigit in the rain

We've been Brigit's man and woman for well over a year now, but the abuse she received before we found her (whatever that was) rears it's head from time to time.

Sometimes she jumps when we touch her. Noises outside scare her. Our ice maker's noises scare her and it's just above her bowls in the kitchen so we can't make ice when she is eating--if we do, she won't eat.

Tonight we had to go out in the rain. When I tried to take her lead off, my umbrella came close to her and she darted off the deck with the lead still on.

She peed fine, but having the lead on confused (and probably scared her for some reason) so she stopped walking and didn't move until I went down and took the lead off.

She let me dry her with a towel for a long time on the back porch--she doesn't like being wet--then took her treat upstairs rather than eating it in the little sitting room off the kitchen like she usually does.

She is the gentlest of dogs. She never barks. She walks on her lead really well. She is the sweetest of all the dogs we've ever had. A real joy for us--and for her, I hope.

But it's those moments when whatever happened to her comes back.

I'm not sure that will ever stop. I wish it would, but I'm not sure it will.

She deserves to forget all that.

But I'm not sure she ever will.

As gentle and affectionate as she is, sometimes her memory haunts her.

Just like us, I guess.

Memory can be haunting.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Archive

About Me

some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.