Thursday, July 8, 2021



A loon at Porcupine Lake

The loons are calling at Porcupine Lake,
haunting cries as one flits across the water,
swift-winged, after his mate,
and I think of you, old pal of mine,
how we walked so many miles
of shoreline, explored so many
forest trails, you ahead, always,
tail up, eyes bright, your wild heart
thrilling as you visited
your wilderness home.

I knew you always wanted to stay.
You'd pick up a piece of driftwood,
carry it back to the car, climb reluctantly in,
dejected till the next time
I pointed the nose of the car
towards our lost home.

Then you'd bark, so excited,
and leap from back seat to front,
from front to back, your big tail
whapping me across the face
with every jump, me laughing,
your eyes full of joy,
heading home. Heading home.

Now I am here without you,
old pal of mine, and the lonely cry 
of the loon flying after its partner
is my heart winging its way to you
across the years and miles.
(How many miles is it from here
to the Rainbow Bridge? Too many
for any but hearts to make the passage.)

for Pup.


  1. So, tender and heartfelt! I love this Sherry all the details and memories gather as you remember your soulful, Pup! He was a soulmate in so, many ways~ Your relationship with him a sacred gift!

  2. I've seen that sort of excitement in my brother's dogs whenever he loaded them in his car to take them to romp at my father's woodland place, which they loved -- "visiting home" -- the imprint of that joy lives on in you and surely calls to Pup on the Rainbow Bridge. Beautfiul.

  3. Their evocative sounds stab hard and long in the darkness. Wonderful write Sherry!


  4. I was lucky enough to walk a dog this morning. He was happy to walk. That we all could take such joy ~

  5. Christine LowtherJuly 10, 2021 at 9:38 AM

    *laughing and crying


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