But I Forgot to Take a Picture

They say that we dream in black and white, and that our memories are in black and white as well. So I suppose I will remember my dearest sweetest Arnold with no alterations needed. But what happens when I can't remember what he looks like? That his soft black ears were the shape of tender ginkgo leaves? That he had a white stripe of fur that ran just to the left of his twitchy nose? That his white whiskers were the wiliest, craziest, boingiest I'd ever seen? That he looked as though he had on a stylish white shoulder cape that suited him very nicely indeed?



What happens when you haven't drawn a portrait and hadn't taken pictures together because you thought there was so much more time? And what if, at the time, the thought of photos were interrupted anyway because he was so excited to see you every day, and because snuggles and happy to be together time would always ensue? What happens when no one thought to capture those moments for you?

What happens when the best you can do is a Nokia cell phone, in the dead of night, on the front porch, in below freezing weather, with no shoes or socks, hoping that somehow a little life may show through the lens? A little life you wish you still had.

Blog and emotional relief inspired by R.I.P. My Dear Smokey. Thanks Bill.

A special thank you to J A S for "Very Still Life" (no longer available). That meant a lot to me.

A special thank you to Envision hope for "Missing Arnold". Thank you for that beautiful tribute. I'm glad you two met.