All morning I sweep the porch because this is the season of wind. In Iowa the grass and trees sound like the ocean and if you wake in the night you can think yourself far at sea. Today I am far at sea. I am rubbing my eyes against the magic of this life. I feel so oddly alive I could cry. Who am I? Who am I? The question has to be asked twice.
It occurs to me that I am influenced by the dogs in my life–not as easy friends, co-denizens of the house–but as shapers of my heart. My first guide dog Corky who carried my shoes to my bedside each morning; my beloved Black Labrador Roscoe who had such faith in Connie and I, who loved us because he saw us as being purely actual, not abstract. My present guide dog Nira who has the devotion of love solidified: she is still teaching me things even today.
And the wind works at the house…
S.K.
Planet of the Blind 
Not much in life is better than a good dog.
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I loved Vidal–he was a spectacular dog. And I also believe dogs teach us more about taking life on life’s terms than most people can.
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I love the joke, I won’t tell it to my wife though. http://themedicalvalley.com
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Beautiful —
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SK, you are a poet and an above and beyond user of language. By comparison, Nira can say so much, so simply and so directly. I have so much difficulty conceiving of such an existence. What would my life be without the language in my head?
Have you heard the joke: If you’re wondering who loves you more, your dog or your spouse, lock them both in the trunk of a car and drive them around for about an hour. The one who leaps out of the trunk and licks your face after that hour is one who REALLY loves you.
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