Last night I dreamed I hadn’t seen Dusty T. Dog in a few days, and I was worried about him. I looked every where. I finally found him in a garage with my affectionate, long-haired, long-ago tabby cat, Triffid, and my sweet black and white husky, Jasmine. I’m not sure Dusty was going to stay there. Maybe that’s Heaven’s anteroom or maybe animal Heaven is a garage.
Anyway, he seemed fine and Jasmine — Jammie — was there with him. When he was a puppy, Jasmine was the one who took care of him most of the time. My cat, Triffid, lived all his life among big dogs. Dusty looked a little hesitant in the dream until he saw me. He loped over to me, and I scratched his ears and snuggled his neck. I said, “I love you, boy. I’m glad you’re OK.”
And I woke up.
I guess I miss my dog.
I don’t know what happens when people (dogs?) die
Can’t seem to grasp it as hard as I try
It’s like a song playing right in my ear
That I can’t sing
I can’t help listening… Jackson Browne