Tag: dog

• December 22, 2015

  Holiday

  The old dog sits close; thunderstorms and nostalgia have us held up in the back of the house— each seeking shelter from our own fears. Originally published at Gnarled Oak – Issue 5; November 6, 2015
• February 21, 2014

  Eleven Years

  He gets confused sometimes— gets up, walks a few steps, –pauses– looks blankly ahead then turns around, sits back down slowly. The doctor says it’s dementia; it’s just the beginning, really. It’s in his eyes, though: everything. He’s not forgotten anything; I’ve not, either— not the way he sat with me quietly through the years:…