dukhu

as the car moved away i could see his face growing smaller and smaller. standing in the rain, he watched us leave. with our unruly bundles. things sticking out, things pushing themselves off. a life carried away. 10 years moved into a new place. and he just stood. incomprehension writ large on his face. why did he wait? did he believe we would come back? did he think that the rain would stop, bringing sunshine and all the happy days? but then again, how would he know? and that's how i remember him. wet, fur clinging close to his body, a wet, dripping tail, still vaguely trying to wag. but the look on his face is what i remember the most. somewhere between confusion and disapproval. maybe he was just hungry. did he feel all these things or am i just looking for an outlet for the way i felt? i've seen him once or twice after that. never the same. he came after us, all the way home. but nothing was the same again. and then he disappeared. if i ever saw him again i'd like to say sorry. i'd like to bid a proper goodbye and not leave him with the falsest of hopes. he had seen us leave before, but there had always been a return. so what went wrong this time? why the absence? i miss him. miss his raggedy-ann looks, his tail nipped at the tip, his perpetually hungry look, his crucially mistimed bark. most of all i miss his presence near the door. a shadow on the doorstep. wish i could remember him some other way. but what sticks in my mind is that one soggy morning, with the rain just beginning to fall and the face of a lonely little dog. miss you.