I waited for days and days. Days and days. Days and days and days and days and…….
How do you explain to the dog whose favourite human, Poppy, will be returning after a few weeks?
“He was there. And, then he was gone. I think the big bags swallowed him up.”
Obviously, we skyped now and again. I said, why don’t you leave your kindle fire here so the dogs can call you direct? We chatted via my laptop, the dogs scattered around and squeezed up. Call her name, she misses you badly!
“I heard him. I looked round. But his body was gone.”
I tried explaining: He’s visiting Canada.
“Canada? What is Canada?”
You know, that cold place.
“Where the dog meat is?”
No, not the fridge.
He left via the front-door. Ever hopeful with muddled dog-logic, her heart burning with love, she races to the top of the stairs to the room he occupies. Just cold absence meets her. Its icy fingers grip her heart.
Poppy is coming back. I cuddle her all the more. I’m a poor substitute, tho’, not the real thing.
“I waited and waited. Waited and waited. Waited and waited and waited and waited… He’s gone. I left him a present under the bed.”
And, one in his shoe.
I know, I know; it’s difficult. You are a good little dog. Poppy is coming back.
Poppy did come back. He returned to a room of stunned dogs. And, all this has been quickly forgotten.
Copyright Faith McCord 2017
Story and artwork belongs to Faith McCord who is the author and artist holding the copyright. This is not a public domain work. Worldwide rights.