She Cannot Say Goodbye
Kathy Pippig Harris
It is a comfortable little place -- their home, it is paid for, cozy, and theirs alone. Just the two of them, therein, reside... an older lady and the aging canine.
Listening to the radio, as the storm grew, tears well in her eyes, upon hearing the news. She gazes at her friend, and he regards her, too. Reporters are saying everyone must now go...she was to pack only what she needed from home.
She shakes her head and wonders, "Didn't they know that folks like her had no means to get away and no car of their own?"
But officials called to say public transport would stop by; they'd take her and her things, but her beloved friend could not ride. Tears fall as thunder and lightning rent the damp air. Her friend pads over, then leans against her, there in her chair.
Sensing her sadness, the old dog wags his tail as the wind past their porch swells to a wail he reaches up and reassuringly licks her hand, and as he has always, by her side, he will stand!
She sobs at his sweet, loyal gesture, for he does not know that on this journey, her dearest friend will not go. They had weathered life's storms and both had grown gray. She worries as they were never long, from the other, away.
She rises slowly when she hears the knock on the door, a man takes her bags, saying, "I'm sorry, ma'am, it's now or never -- we can wait no more."
When the old dog follows her, she says "No, go inside where it's safe." His expression is one of bewilderment and hurt, as rain pelts his face. When she steps into the bus, she hears him whimper and cry. She cannot turn around to him. She cannot say good-bye.
She studies the man who holds her bags, then she steps off the bus. When she reaches her friend, she says, "No future is as important as the gift that is us."She bends down and, happily crying, embraces her furry soul mate, "The worst storm ever is near, but alone, you will not have to wait."
Later, as the night explodes 'round them, and she draws him snug to her side ,he lifts his fuzzy head, stares lovingly at her and she contentedly sighs.
For on this, their last journey, the two would be together always . . .. . . now . . . and forever.
Dedicated to a future where, in a disaster,we will not be torn apart from our furry kin!
Kathy Pippig Harris - 2005
- Left Behind -
The Story of One Dog
Marilou Chanrasmi
I wasn’t there on August 29th, 2005. I am here, one year later, and I hear the cries of your spirit, calling from the depths of the ocean, crying for your stories to be told. I close my eyes, I listen, and I can only imagine...
I see the look of panic on your face. I hear you scream. I don’t know what you are saying. All I know is that something bad is happening. You are grabbing things and stuffing them in your duffle bag. I never liked it when you did that in the past. It meant you were going away. But most of the time, I saw you put my bowl in your beat up, navy blue duffle bag – ahh, a sigh of relief. This time, my bowl remains on the black and white checkered kitchen floor. You had just finished laboring over this new kitchen floor. Two weeks ago, you threw a party for your closest friends to show off your new floor. I had made my rounds with your friends, sitting patiently waiting for scraps to miraculously land in my drooling mouth. Now, brown sewer water is seeping through the walls, and your floor is getting wet.
I hear voices outside. What’s going on?
“No, you have to leave him behind! You can’t bring him. We will come back for him when it’s safe.”
I hear you beg and plead. “I can’t leave him. I won’t leave him. He’s family. I’ll just stay and wait it out with him. We’ll be okay.”
The voices get louder and more forceful. Voices crescendo, in unison with the rising water. I can no longer see my bowl. My paws are now immersed in murky brown water. I fixate my eyes on your eyes. I will not release the gaze that binds us together. Our gaze is like a harness. It’s the safety harness that connects me to you.
As the roar of the screaming, frantic voices subside, I see you cast your eyes on me. Tears are running down your cheeks as you struggle to swallow. Your lips move as words come out and you wade towards me. I feel the dirty brown water brush up against my chest.
“I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I can’t take you with me. I promise, I will come back for you.”
Day after day, night after night, I fight to stay above the rising water.
From the roof-top, I wait for you.
I wait, till I can no longer wait. Hope is not enough. Even love is not enough.
Till one moment –
All that’s left are memories.
All that’s left is the gaze that once held two spirits together.
All that’s left
Is a deafening silence, and the stench of lives left behind.
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