The Weight of Water

The wind whispers secrets soon to

be revealed.  Pushes him along.

There is no cure.

He shuffles. Small steps. Unsure

for the first time

in forever

whether he can make the hill.

Pail in hand, he bends, turns

the spigot, spends 

precious minutes.

Watches water fall. Rinses

out the larvae and the slime.

Fills the pail and after

a time convinces himself to stand.

Physics is cruel. And a body at

rest remains. He moves forward.

Pours water for the cats,

seed for the birds, feed for the possums

and raccoons. Corn for the deer.

Meat for the dogs.

They need. They all need to live, he says.

Everything is creation or calamity

and he the only thing between.

What will they do when he is gone?

It is hunger that drives him

though he does not eat. He is shrinking

and I think he may shrink into the earth

when his credits and balances are due.

He is winded, his time near its end.

He passes me the pail. I bend.

Turn the spigot.     Water falls.

~ Elodie Pritchartt

March 9, 2012

A New Lease on Life for our Strays in Natchez/Adams County, MS

Angel in a Dog Suit

My first dog was a German Shepherd named Shadow.  That was the sweetest, smartest dog I've ever had.  After we'd left for school in the mornings, Shadow would leave our house on Linton Avenue and walk up to my dad's office downtown and scratch on the door, asking to be let in.  At 2:00  p.m., when school let out, she'd walk to the door and howl, asking to be let out.  When we arrived home, there she was on the porch waiting for us.

A year or two later my dad moved his office from Commerce Street to Main Street.  Somehow, she knew the new location and walked up to Main to visit for the day.  My father used to cradle her in his arms and say, "You're just an angel in a dog suit."

We also had a sitter who came to stay with us every Thursday at 2 p.m.  On Thursdays, instead of going to my dad's office, Shadow walked down to the corner of Linton Avenue and Oak Street to wait for Augusta, whom she adored.  Augusta always brought a stick with which to scratch Shadow's rump.  How did Shadow know it was Thursday?  And sometimes, she'd go visit with my great aunt Annet on Clifton Avenue, always asking to be let back out in time for us to get home from school.  She was brilliant.  I couldn't think about Shadow for years after she died without collapsing in tears.

Now I'm looking for a home for another shepherd, this one snow white like an angel.  If you'd like to meet this angel in a dog suit and consider adopting him, please write me at epritchartt@yahoo.com.  I don't want to have to take him to the pound.  He's a sweet, affectionate dog.



Whitey:

Whitey just appeared one day a couple of years ago.  I think he's probably a young dog.  He's beautiful, too.  The shape and size of a German Shepherd.  I think of him as a white German Shepherd. I accidentally ran over him in the driveway one day, and he still loves me anyway. He's friendly, he's neutered and he needs a loving, forever home.  I'm moving soon, and if I don't find homes for these dogs, I can't imagine what I'll do.  Please share these stories with your friends.

Elodie

epritchartt@yahoo.com