So. Phil is gone. Conrad wandered off. Bruin is dead.
It's just me and dumb-eyed Spunk. Truth be told, she's not all that dumb. Just her eyes. Maybe they are not dumb either. Maybe just not judgemental. Maybe I'm just not used to non-judgemental. I'm maybe not used to not being challenged, questioned for every move. Maybe that's a good thing.
I'm not sure if I miss Conrad so much. I guess he was good for a laugh for me and Phil. He provided the comic fodder we needed when Phil would imbibe a little too much. Drunk Phil would ooze wit and sarcasm, at Conrad's expense. Poor Conrad. The old bastard was loveable for his ignorance.
Phil is gone too, though. He's not around to have me look at the other side. The simple side, the logical side, the honest side. Sure he drank much, and rarely on his dime. But cut through the shit, he could. He allowed me to see things the way they should be seen at times, while still allowing me to remain a little befuddled as I tend to enjoy.
I don't know if Phil will come back. I'm not sure if I would let him in the door and offer him a drink if he should one day darken my front door. I'm not sure if I understand that fully. I don't know why I don't want things to be Phil-simple again, even if I miss it so much.
I know Bruin is not coming back. I know this, since I laid her in the ground myself. She's resting behind the the crab apple tree that the bear perennially strips each fall. I wonder if that bear knows Bruin lies just beneath where she feasts.
Gone is her steady, knowing gaze. There won't be another dog like her.
Sorry to hear about Bruin. That's a tough road.
ReplyDeleteMaybe simplicity is difficulty because it travels with vulnerability?
Though, the catch is that vulnerability is really strength incognito.
Or, I could be just as mixed up as Phil. It's been known to happen.