Gemma

                My dog has only one ear.  Her ear wasn’t amputated, as one may assume by looking at her.  She was born without it; she has no cartilage in her ear, but she can still hear.  Gemma is a border collie, with black, white and sable fur.  She is the most beautiful dog in the neighborhood, and I am the envy of all the dog owners on the block. 

One Saturday night, I took her for a walk. Her collar is covered in shamrocks.  The other night, the evening of our last walk, I had a dream where I had sewn the shamrocks on her collar.  I gathered the four-leaf clovers in a deep green field.  I woke up to the rush of cold on my arm.  An old, lime, melted cup of slushy from 7-11 that was on the night stand to my left spilled on me.  My other dog had jumped on the night stand, which caused the spill, but I didn’t blame him. 

Gemma and I got past two sprinklers (the fanning kind that I hate and that scare her because there is no avoiding the water that falls repetitively, seemingly microsecond after microsecond).  We pass the playground, that has ground of AstroTurf, there to break the fall of children that swing on monkey bars (Have you ever gotten the feeling someone gets when you look up to the sky after falling, and feel dizzy as you see the clouds above you that cover you like a blanket? Have you ever taken in the blue of the sky that is so crystal clear that it should be water?  But isn’t?).

A rabbit is on the sidewalk a block ahead of us- beady eyes, fluffy tail.  My dog has met her match.  I let her off of the leash, seemingly just for the fun of it (I have just revealed her name now, just for the rush of it).  She speeds ahead, without regard for traffic or any other things that might deny her.  Had the rabbit not run into a bush, who knows where she might have gone.  Without me.  Although this is true, the only thing I fear is the rain clouds above.  Rain begins to fall.  It is apparent that I might have lost my best friend, to a speeding car- but I took the chance.  Just for the rush of blood to the head.  And to give Gemma what she needs.  Whatever there is in her way, that I can’t control, that might kill her, I despise (perhaps a car, with bright taillights that portray the red of hell that I would only know at that moment if she left me, forever).