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Wednesday, January 17, 2018

The Always-Almost-Dying Dog



Photo by Deb Lecos 

A terrier has rigorously clenched onto life, her flying-monkey passion to win a race, a known personality trait. As the body of the tiny aging canine moves to quit, it has become a regular occurrence that the always-almost-dying-dog falls over, limbs limp, heart beat close to nothing, the eyes sending the determination that she remains in the game. A woman finds this behavior mystifying.
As the woman watches, the Yorkie displays she is a beast, lean-walking to the yard, pooping with purpose, and decorating the action with a choppy but intent stamp to seal a will to continue. Side-racing to the stairs, the always-almost-dying-dog stops, her body rippling in tremors continuously.
The woman gets a blanket for the Yorkie, wrapping her like a taco, only a small, bearded face peeking out. The always-almost-dying-dog shivers and shivers, the woman’s lunch getting colder and colder, staring at the dog the entire time. Minutes pass, one after another, the Yorkie softening like cheese on a sunny day, until eventually the shudders drift away. The eyes of the always-almost-dying-dog have a some-thing in them. It is a not known, though wanted thing, a worth-it-no-matter-what zest that makes breathing and enduring matter-of-factly, always-possible.


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