verge (vʉrj)
noun
the edge, brink, or margin (of something): also used figuratively the verge of the forest, on the verge of hysteria

verg′·ing
to tend or incline (to or toward)
to be in the process of change or transition into something else; pass gradually (into) dawn verging into daylight




Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Love Triangle


Luke and Cody

It was love at first sight, times two. These two brothers are the kindest gentlemendogs I've met.  Luke (the lighter of the pair) is the handsome explorer-type, while Cody is the big flirt.  We've wasted no time falling deeply in love.

We walk to the field, Luke running slightly ahead while Cody follows just behind my left wrist.  We head into the field and find wild apple trees in bloom, a weathered and tired old barn, and a curly carpet of myrtle creeping through the woods, purple flowers covering the floor.  I look at the boys who are ambling just ahead of me, side by side they walk, touching shoulders, happy and contented.  As we head back through the yard to the house, Cody stops and looks at me as if to comment on our walk.  I imagine his voice is very matterafact, clear, and mature.  Yep, looks like a good day out there, Alice, he says. (I love that he calls me by name.)

Yesterday, like other days before, sirens sounded all through town as rescue cars surged down the street.  As the sirens began, the boys both stopped and turned to face the west, stretching their noses towards the sky while shutting their eyes, and then as if in prayer, they howled....and they howled.  Their mournful cries sent chills through me--it was such a beautiful sound.  I was spellbound by the uniformity of their ritual, and I couldn't interrupt to call them home.  It could have been a funny moment--the silliness of echoing an ambulance--but it's not what happened. Whatever they were doing together came from their ancient past, and I was being pulled into a holy resonance.

They are magnificent beings--such magnificent beings.  I am awestruck (and smitten).  And I can't stop thinking about them.  I might just go out tonight and howl at the moon...maybe they will hear me and send their echo.


1 comment:

  1. There was an old Bearded collie at the Croc Disc record store on Rue des Ecoles...and he too would howl at the sirens, practically an hourly occurence in Paris...at first it scared me, but as I got to know him better, it was most reassuring when he howled...like he was looking out for us in the neighborhood.

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