My dog wrote me a Postcard from heaven

Early in the dreary day, in my reverie or for real, I received a postcard from heaven. Signed by my dear departed dog, it so began:

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Dear Calvy,

Wherever the crowd was, I was not.

But you know that already, don’t you?

Soaring or sulking under your calendars and conferences, meetings and memos, to-do-lists and tours, loves and losses, you had to do what you had to do. It couldn’t wait for the world, least of all for me. I get that. I was just a dog.

But a dog has a dozen things to do too — chasing squirrels, spying on the postman, running amok on the hillside, contemplating by the bench, scheming for world domination with the clever cat, learning new words, penning poems… a multitude of tasks to tick off but none as vital as being there beside you. And I did the same as long as I had breaths beating in my heart.

Now that I am gone, a mere blip on our map of memories, I still love you. Frolicking my four legged body, around the sun that is you, I will always love you.

I’d calm your nerves if nightmares torment you. Or worse still if you have had too many people — acquaintances or friends whatever is the name you give them. I’d put you to bed and watch you sleep as I always have.

Up above the clouds, on this soft grey patch where I am perched now, I hear when they call you ‘too sensitive‘ or ask you ‘to grow up‘. I understand you like they never could. I see the world move on as if nothing happened, from one Frisbee to the next. But you, my boy, relapse for an eternity.

Did I tell you that I love you?

I believe in you like they never could. What if your garden is gone; grass grows on graves too, doesn’t it? And while we are talking graves, rest assured my love will ward off the hooded hands of death too.

Keep believing in the magic, the mundane and sometimes even in the movies. The world might not always understand your words and wishes, but I always will.

Are you listening?

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