Good-Bye, My Sweet Siofra

I’ve been meaning to write this for awhile now. And I’ve written it, in my head at least. Lines and remembrances. Memories and silliness. Grief and joy. And, yet, sitting down here to finally write it and … I’m blank. There aren’t any words within reach. I don’t remember what I’ve come up with in my head. Nothing.

So, I’ll just start at the beginning and give up the pretense of trying to create some eloquent and memorable and just go with immediate and hopefully not terrible.  Continue reading “Good-Bye, My Sweet Siofra”


36 Hours is something like a 100 days in dog years.


Siofra is the first dog that’s truly belonged to me. I adopted her when she was about a year old from Save the Animals Foundation (STAF), where I volunteered as a dog caretaker and adoption counselor. 

She came to STAF in late 2002, an overly serious three-month old puppy, her face too big for her skull and her front legs skinned from elbow to wrist. She’d been found at a car wash and it was evident she’d been on her own for awhile, even for her short life. Her coat was matted and her skin scabbed. She’d been living on garbage, struggling to survive, abandoned. Yet, she did survive – despite the traumatic injuries to her legs. 

I remember the first night I met her. I came in for my volunteer shift to take care of the dogs, and another volunteer intercepted me. She told me I had to come to the vet room and see this puppy because she seemed like the kind of dog I’d love. 

Boy, was that volunteer right on the money.  Continue reading “36 Hours is something like a 100 days in dog years.”


I’m looking over the lazy curl of the Ohio, watching the night lights of Cincinnati grow brighter. The sky itself is a mesh of of blue, grey, and dusky rose. It’s beautiful. And then it occurs to me. I have seen so many beautiful places, have stayed in ancient cities, and witnessed breathtaking wonders. I have seen so much beauty in this world … and while at the time I noticed an appreciated it, afterwards I shoved it back to the inaccessible junk pile of memory that we all have.

I have been so lucky to see the things I have seen … the sunsets, storms, deer, flowers, even the insects … on and on and on. It saddens me a little now to realize I can’t recollect it all at will. I know that’s the design of the human mind – you can’t remember everything or you’d go crazy.

But I still feel a pang, not being able to remember all of the beauty. Continue reading “lucky”