As I was leaving my neighborhood this morning, I noticed what looked like a two-headed goose walking across the street. At the end of a long line of geese children, this adult goose was playing goose caboose. When it paused to eat some grass, I paused to see what made it look like it had two heads. Just when I’d determined that I must have just seen an odd angle of the goose’s tail, I saw a baby goose hanging on tight to its mama’s (or daddy’s) back. It seemed to be having a wonderful time hanging its head over its parent’s side, trying to catch a bite of grass or a bug or whatever geese eat. I imagined the baby goose yelling, “Whhhhheeeeee!” as it got a free ride to the pond.
I smiled.
Just as I was making my turn onto Mrs. Flora’s road, I saw what looked like a statue of a little dog standing beside the road. I did a double take because I hadn’t noticed the statue before, and when I did I saw the statue move. In the exact moment I realized that the dog was not a statue, I saw a car coming the other way. I thought, “Oh. Please don’t walk forward, little dog,” at the exact moment that the little dog walked forward at the exact moment the car drove past. I heard a thud. I saw a tiny, broken creature flip through the air. I saw the look of horror on the driver’s face and watched as she pulled over, but I kept driving, very slowly, feeling extremely sad for the dog…and for the dog’s owners who had most likely just let him/out to pee.
I’ve tried to get the image out of my mind, but I can’t.
Twenty minutes after that terrible moment, when I received a completely unrelated response text from a friend from whom I hadn’t heard in awhile, I cried. Three hours after the incident, when I left Mrs. Flora’s to visit Journey the Dog, I cried. Six hours after the incident, when I looked at pictures from two friends’ wedding, I cried. And now, seven hours after the incident, as I type these words and watch Bullet bullet through the house, I cry. Delayed grief, I suppose. Delayed release of emotion after witnessing an innocent doggy life taken.
Life is so fragile. So exciting and sad. So beautiful and ugly. So new and old. So scheduled and unpredictable.
Nature reminded me of that today.
O God, by whom the meek are guided and light rises from darkness: Grant us, in all our hurts, doubts, and uncertainties, the grace to know that you are near. Grant that your spirit of wisdom may save us from all lies and that your ever-present spirit of truth will ring loudly in our ears. Assist us mercifully, O God, in facing all of the changes and chances in this mortal life and compel us to embrace life fully. Help us to ride life’s journey with a child’s excitement and to face death by looking forward to what is ahead. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment