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| Photo copyright Aji, 2019; all rights reserved. |
I knew I was forgetting something yesterday. My brain isn't working well lately, though, and that affects memory and date recognition.
It doesn't affect feelings of love and loss, even if, one year on, I forget the date's significance.
Just after 8 AM on October 24th of last year was the last time I saw Crow and Blue. They were trotting around the side of the house, past the kitchen door to head for the front, and then go running with the others.
The photo above is not a good one; it's the first time Blue and some of the others got to eat here, although Crow and Coyote had been coming over daily for a couple of weeks at that point. Blue's the one on the left, and yes, she was red-tick and white, but she had one ice-blue eye. Crow's the first of the black ones, from the left, behind golden girl Coyote. That's Cricket to the right, the only one left now from the ones in this shot.
Once a dog goes feral, it's nearly impossible to undo it. All the more so when they're forced to be feral from birth. And since I needed a shot with both girls in it, I chose one that doesn't make clear just how near death Blue was at that point when the photo was taken. They came, and they never left. Until they were taken from us.
To be clear, by the time we lost them both, they were both a perfect weight, incredibly healthy, and absolutely joyously happy. Blue, nearly dead on her feet, blossomed into a lean and beautiful creature, indescribably fast, who sat with all the regal grace of an Egyptian cat god. Crow, the little black pup, was the alpha, the leader, of the whole bunch, confident and utterly fearless. She, with Coyote's help, found us when they, too, were nearly dead from starvation and thirst, and brought them all to be saved.
We know what happened to them. We'll never prove it.
A week or two prior, a local guy showed up and threatened us, threatened Wings, threatened our dogs. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't keep his stories straight, and it was abundantly clear that, having seen the house go up and assuming there was money for the stealing, he thought he could shake the Native couple down for four figures over a demonstrable lie about his cattle, one he himself contradicted literally in the same breath. We never thought it would come to this.
But they disappeared on the morning of October 24th, and we know the who and the why and more or less the how, even if we'll never prove it. I looked for them for days. We both did, but I drove the highway day after day, night after night, prayed and hoped and called and prayed some more. And by then, I imagine they were both already in a shallow grave somewhere. Envy is an ugly thing. so is greed. So is revenge.
We've never seen either girl since. And there have been two more dog-shaped holes in our hearts ever since. But they live in our photos, our memories, our spirits, and I rather suspect their own spirits come back from time to time, just to see the place they loved so much. It's nearly Halloween; maybe they'll visit Cricket and Kit over the next few days. Heaven knows enough other spirits have been abroad at night lately.
Crow, Blue, we love you, beautiful girls. You're never out of our hearts.
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2019; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
