The Black Dog of Grief

Well, kids, I knew that this time of year the river at Stamp Falls would be raging, and I thought to go and take some pictures to show you. It felt a little incongruous to be doing such a thing, while the Middle East is going up like a tinder box, and Japan - along with the rest of us - skirts the edge of nuclear catastrophe. Also it was the first time going there without Pup, first time since his death in January.

For the last eleven of his fourteen years, this was our favorite local outing. When we missed the beach too much, it was the wildest spot we could find here, and we went often, the two of us,

in perfect harmony.

Pup was my companion through our happiest wilderness days in Tofino. He embodied the wild for me, and it is there that I miss him most of all. I reflect on the people who have lost their loved ones and their whole world, this past week. Some of my grief today is for our woefully suffering planet. But I admit my tears and wolf howls this afternoon were all for him.

Since Jasmine's surgery in November, she has been unable to go more than half a block from home. So it was the black dog of grief who walked with me today, my first time alone

along the river.

Dancing river,

wild and free,

it is hard

to see your beauty,

when he is gone.

But I still need

your wildness

to survive,

and so I must

continue to

walk on.

Roaring river,take my

low, keening

wolf howls

and some tears,

for now the

black dog of grief

has come

to stalk

my years. 

Singing river,

carry my howls

of love and loss

to him

like a prayer,

and

bring back

his answer

to me

on the

evening air.