Tuesday, December 9, 2014
long before I knew him - Doug with his dog Bo Sweetie at Lake of the Woods Manitoba, he's always been a dog lover
You can usually tell that a man is good if he has a dog who loves him. W. Bruce Cameron A Dogs Journey
Those of you who've been visiting this blog for awhile will remember that Doug and I met over a dog. First when he commented in the grocery store parking lot, and then again another time at the hardware store, about Miss Winnie Dixon sitting regally in the driver's seat of my teal wagon (a 1994 Ford Escort station wagon). If he had spoken to me about anything else I likely would've ignored him - thought to myself ew why is that strange man speaking to me ? but he spoke to me about my one true love, my constant companion. Miss Dee loved to travel in the car with me while I did my errands. She loved just to be with me, no matter what, no matter where.
Doug understood the relationship I had with my dog Winnie because he'd always shared his life with a dog. He and I met again in a bigger way one fateful day in September 2009 I was walking Miss D in the park near my house and he was walking a little brown puppy named Bess. I love that he's a dog lover.
Thank you for the comments on my recent post about grief & guilt and Winnie's death. Just writing that post and pressing publish made me feel better. It's funny how blogging has always felt very therapeutic to me, I've always been fairly heart on sleeve in my writing. You are my friends and it's as if we're sitting down early in the morning together with a cup of tea and I tell you how I'm feeling, I describe the thing that's most occupying my mind. Sometimes it's something exciting & new (like moving to lovely Lunenburg), sometimes it's the triumph of a recent creative project finished & finished well. Sometimes it's about struggle, process & the journey I'm on, that we're on - together. Other times it's about beauty, joy & nature.
I like this place, this blog, this safe place ... where I can always be me. Thanks for visiting me ;-)
Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives. John Galsworthy
Posted by Susan