Thursday, December 10, 2009

Godspeed

Godspeed
Like a mist, consciousness drifted over the drowsing group. Here and there  a
muzzle lifted so the owner could scent-scan the air. A dozen pairs of ears
swiveled and then pricked. She was coming. One by one, they sensed her
approach.

A heavy tail thumped as a Samoyed gazed down the starry path. It had  been a
long time for him, this waiting. No matter, the feel of her caress was  fresh
and unfaded. He had slumbered for over forty years, paws twitching,  dreaming
of her arrival and of dashes of mountain trails. He never knew when his
breath had frozen mid-dream. He had just continued his sleepy vigil.

"She comes." The knowledge passed from dog to dog. A shaggy form rose and
yawned. How many steps had he taken at her side through busy happy years,  

through lean and bitter years? Nearby, a nervous whine escaped the wolfish  throat
of a more anxious creature.

A shifting weight from paw to paw betrayed the restlessness of the show  dog.
His immaculate coat showed now rumpling from his long repose. Beside him, a
little bitch crept forward to peer between the shoulder of those in front of
her.

Across the broad expanse, dogs were rising, throwing off the effects of
their deep slumber. Ice crystals from New England, the Rockies, Alaska, the
Arctic and Antarctic were flung into the air to mingle and fall with a minute
tinkling sound.

They all knew she had loved them. The unchangeable law that a dog's life is
of short duration compare to man's had doomed her to countless partings. Her  

dogs would be waiting, the old timers said, to pull her sled throughout
eternity. The musher's legend had comforted her and years later when she was  frail
and aged, she would think of her dogs resting expectantly, timelessly  until
the reunion should come. Could such a lovely thought come true?

Closer. She was very near now. A small fox of a Siberian stirred and  climbed
to her feet. She was dwarfed by a grey giant who had pushed to the front  of
the crowd. They shared a question, "who will lead to the mistress?"

The answer came as a massive paw extended and flexed. Tawny fur quivered as
the dog stretched and shook off decades of sleep. The mistress' first lead dog
would be her leader now.

The great dog went to stand far ahead of a grey-weathered sled. Slowly,
tentatively, the multitude found their places. The legend was coming alive. A
promise was being kept.

A chubby, clownish face turned to look back. It split into the trademark
Husky grin. All stood ready.  She was here.

The mistress stepped across the threshold and paused. Her breath caught.  Her
heart thumped and last beat. The scene cleared before her as years fell away
from her eyes, her body. It was true - all as it had been foretold.

A team of a thousand strong stood before her. Sled dogs of every
description...each a well-loved friend eager to away, to race down the trail. A  querying
bark from the golden dog broke her reverie. She smiled.  With the  swift,
free motion of a youth, she stepped upon the runners and placed her hand  on the
driving bow. Team, sled, and driver sprang ahead and vanished in a flurry  of
snowflakes and windrush.  Godspeed.

Author Unknown~

1 comment:

  1. That was very pretty. I saw your comment above me at Pioneer Woman and came over to say hi : ). I love meeting other photographers and seeing their styles!

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