Thursday, June 12, 2008

This is when . . .

This is when--if not long before--she would die in the wild. (Not that the tiniest poodles were designed to survive out there anyway.)

When I toss her a treat, she knows it's there, but this knowing is disconnected from the seeing, smelling, and hearing that she used to rely on to snap up treats with competitive rapidity. Now, she stands there a little dazed--she turns her head to look, but she can't see so small a treat. She sniffs, but she's too many inches away to pick up its scent. And the sound of where it landed was never so much a sound to her, as a gentle vibration that she felt, amplified by memory.

I tap my foot next to the treat. And feeling her way to the rhythm, she gets in range and sniffs her way to victory.

2 comments:

Sheila said...

My cats would have never made it in the wild-- they like to hunt, but it doesn't occur to them to eat what they catch. Now they're just cranky old lady cats with teeth gradually rotting. But they're healthy, and I don't want them going anywhere anytime soon.

Olive Kite said...

I used to wake up and look at my little dog and think,"Is she alive?" I'd yell her name or poke her. Finally, I told myself that it will be obvious when she's not alive. I've seen two dogs--in my memory--who have passed away. (Not a good image to have.)