Blood on the Tracks and Wobbly Walk

Today is try some more meds day and a snow walk. Lupi sinks into the snow in her favorite arroyo and leaves a trail of blood from her mouth. The tumor is bleeding and her walk is unsteady but eager. The sun glistens through her fur and the straw colored weeds camouflage her as she crests the tiny hill and sniffs through the piñon trees. I love watching her stride even with some weaker steps.

We wander on the bypass on the way home and I stop at the Buddhist Center. I have not been there before and I want to see if I can find a tiny Buddha to put on her collar, after all she has  St. Francis already so what the heck. No one is around and the stupa is white and glistening in the winter light and the prayer flags snap in contrast with the pewter branches of the Cottonwood tree.

When I stayed in Nepal and visited the monastery in the late eighties I loved seeing the tattered prayer flags as I hiked up the mountain and by the path. I would touch the carved mane stones dripping with faded as I moved through the fields. I drew these stones in color pencil, and then the only way I could capture the light they seemed to emanate was with powdered gold mica that I pounded into the textured printmaking paper I drew on.

It is good today to see theses flags, and feel that ancient prayer transmitted in the wind to the town around, the people around, as their snapping fabric of color befit the sky today as they did in Nepal.

Lupine is in the car and resting, and ready for some food and goat milk, and a sunny spot in the yard. I say to her jokingly and sweetly as she looks into my eyes for second time today after her lean against my leg this morning, ” if you do not shut your mouth you will catch flies and I cry and laugh and cry. I am insane this day with the unbidden grief and gratefulness for this moment.”

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