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I Forgive Myself For Letting Her Go
I close my eyes in an attempt to evade my surroundings. I feel my senses evaporate into a vortex of memories.
The rhythmic clicking fades, and I’m drawn back to the beach.
Our beach.
If dogs could do cartwheels, Jasper is positively cartwheeling and backflipping ahead of me. Like a bottle of popped champagne, her effervescent energy spills around her. Her exuberance melts into the sea and sand.
Jasper comes alive on the beach.
The sand stretches for several miles; we are early enough to have the whole beach to ourselves. In celebration, Jasper throws a chunk of shriveled seaweed up in the air, then swiftly engages her spring-loaded paws and leaps up in a pattern of body contortions to catch her new plaything mid-air.
Uh oh, she sees I am idle. She shouts for me to join in her frolics. A play bow and incessant high pitch barking are her signature signs of invitation. I deftly grab the seaweed and take off in the opposite direction. Three seconds later, Jasper is upon me; she captures the seaweed out of my hands and bolts for the waves. I am supposed to follow.
