LOVE STORY: PART ONE
They Called It Puppy Love and Said It Wouldn't Last
Where do you start a love story? At the end?
Does love ever end? He died today — in 2000. So many years ago, but every moment is clear; every moment of our love, that is.
I pitched a bale of hay to the donkeys, led the goats to the upper pasture, and put out food for Jessy and the cats.
All was well on the farm.
It was an easy drive; not just because I’d made it so many times, but it was a straight shot and traffic was low.
Wait, I wasn’t going to the VA hospital in Des Moines. That’s where he was supposed to die.
He was in Ames. Not as far. More traffic. I could do it.
Where did I park? How is it I can’t remember the drive or where I parked? How did I get to his room?
I’d gone home late the night before. I don’t know what helped me most, a few hours’ sleep or tending to the animals.
Life goes on even when death is at the door.
