Did some vacuuming on the weekend. Three months without her, I am still vacuuming up the Hammer's fur. Her soft undercoat.
I took a small handful of it. Enjoyed its softness. Pressing it to my nose, I breathed in my gone dog's faithful scent.
Sonja and I both still miss her so.
3 comments:
Friends out in deepest Beaver Creek lost a dear dog some time back. Edith gathered a mess of the dog's fur and spun it into wool, from which she made Lothar a set of slippers. Dear Dog lives on.
Until I die and for a long time afterwards a little fur from all my dogs will live on by stubbornly rocking the grooves of my record collection.
I am sorry to learn of The hammer's passing. I hope all is well with you.
nazz nomad
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