One Year Out

I feel so bad about this. I hardly remember her anymore. I try, but I can't remember her face. I can't bring it up in my mind when I think about her. I remember the whines of almost anguished joy when we'd ask her if she wanted to go for a walk, and I remember her sleep-howling. I remember the way her back legs turned out and how funny it made her look on walks when she'd get in front of me. I remember the incessant licking - her paws, our faces, the air, anything her tongue could reach - and how she'd try to do it more quietly when we'd tell her to stop. LICK LICK LICK "Lucy, for the love of GOD! STOP!" lick lick lick.

Everybody loved her. "I don't even like dogs, but she was different." "Oh, that's the one you told me about?" "Yeah, that's the one."

But I can't remember her face.