This dog, who mysteriously appeared at our country home with her puppy one day, both of them underfed and ready to rely on the kindness of strangers, has completely won my heart. Gentle, affectionate, lovely and loveable. That’s our Seabee.
She’s always been an attentive mother. I can only imagine what she’s been feeling in the week since Jack suddenly disappeared. You could chalk it up to my imagination, but I could swear I saw sadness and yearning in her eyes at times, and the question–“What happened to my boy?”
Oh, Seabee, I wish I knew. All I can do is keep hoping and praying and doing my best to care for you, my beautiful canine companion. I ask you to bear with that boisterous cartoon dog Buddy and try to be patient. He looks up to you and his Uncle Rascal. And he has two wonderful role models in you–a true lady and gentleman of your species.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm—
I’ve heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me.
Right now, I need hope. It seems to be ebbing away, bit by bit, as the hours and then the days pass and there is no sign of him. The older dogs are out of sorts. They look at me with sorrowful eyes and their tails wag with little enthusiasm; for “Buddy,” the latest stray to appear, they only offer snaps and growls. And there’s nothing I can do to make it all better. All I can do is look and call out, to leave the outside lights on and the door open. All I can do is wait . . . and hope.
I admire many of your characters, Richard, for their resilience and their steadfastness. They have that determination to achieve their goals, to win the hands and hearts of the ones they love; even though life kicks them very hard in the teeth at times, they keep giving and loving–and hoping.
I will try to keep hoping, too.