Ji

We didn't use words---this great dog and I.

Our souls blended into each other

like two hues in a watercolor;

our edges blurred.

He was perfect.

I am left with my love

running into an empty space.

                                    ---Susan Hertel

Do you divide people you know into "cats" and "dogs?"

I mean, do you think of their physical looks and their personalities as being more "cat-like" or "dog-like?" I've done this all my life and it's proved to be fun and useful for me.

The cat people in my life usually have delicate features and a solitary nature.  The dog people are usually athletic, have more angular physical features, and are generally happy, warm and welcoming by nature.  I like both kinds of people, but I'm probably more drawn to "dogs."   I find that my own "cat" personality is based on shyness and "dogs" make me feel safer and more comfortable in the world.

My Uncle Don was a "dog" in the best possible sense of the word.  His body was big-boned and round, his face was jowly, and his mouth and eyes smiled easily. He had a booming voice and welcoming arms.  When my family would visit, he never failed to greet me at his front door with love and excitement.  I always, always knew he was glad to see me.

His Minnesota home felt like a second home to me.  There, in that house with my Uncle Don presiding over the relatives, I felt like there was another place in the world where I truly belonged.  He added me to the blend he called family and made me feel that I was not only his niece, but his own flesh and blood.  In my Uncle Don's home, there were no family boundaries. Like the opening poem says, all of there were like "two hues in a watercolor, our edges blurred." 

Uncle Don died Christmas Eve.  He was 91 and had recently been diagnosed with congestive heart failure.  Just a few months before, he had driven himself to his home town 30 miles away to attend his last high school reunion.  He was the only man left from his class.

His death wasn't unexpected or tragic.  He lived a full, happy life and was "ready" for whatever comes next. But, I will miss that "great dog" and feel that, for the moment, I am "left with my love
 running into an empty space."