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Our Car

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This is our car.

I try to keep it in my sights so as not to miss an opportunity to go somewhere. I really don’t care much where we go, I just don’t want to be left behind.

In our car, we listen to the radio. I practice my English and try to catch her eye in the rear view mirror. I see her smile; she knows knows I’m making progress.

The rhythms of the road rock me to sleep. Occasionally, I stand to see what I’m missing: a bit of woodland, a stretch of pasture, some bright lights in a dark sky. Sometimes I see a horse and rider—right in the middle of the road. I like to watch their nostrils flare as we stop to let them pass.

Last time we took a ride, we went to the vet. Out of the car, I zigged and zagged all the way around the property, leaving messages on every bush I could reach before she said, “Come on, pup,“ and led me inside.

At the end of our visit, we said our goodbyes. I got a treat; they gave momma a geriatric brochure. I tried to tell them as we walked out the door, “She’s really not that old.”

At least I don’t think so.


 

 

One Response to “Our Car”

  1. Linda says:

    Neither do we =)

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