the sun-dappled, golden-furred, tree-climbing dog
Tuffy was a mix of four breeds: Golden Retriever, Cocker Spaniel, Sharpei and (possibly?) Labrador. He looked like a Golden Retriever, really, but with Corgi-type legs. He loved high places - wide tree branches, rooftops, even picnic tables were often preferable to the ground. He even learned how to climb the ladder into the treehouse.
I admit that I encouraged the habit, often carting that ladder around the farm, carrying him up it and depositing him in a branch ten feet off the ground, where he would quite happily start exploring. This tree, in particular, was one we both loved: it boasted three wide, nearly horizontal branches spaced only a few feet apart. It also looked out over my Grandma's place and, beyond that, cornfields that stretched into the sunset.
Those days are gone, of course. My childhood, my Grandmother. Tuffy was struck by a car during my early teenage years, and didn't make it. This tree, years later, was hit by a fierce lighting storm and split down the center. It's just a stump now.
All of those things make me ache just a bit, but not too badly. I don't think I took those days for granted. I remember sitting in that tree, early Autumn leaves dancing in the wind around me, the sun setting in the distance, a good book in my hand and a good dog nearby. I remember thinking, knowing, that those days were numbered. And when I think about, all of those things carry over into today's life. That tree encouraged a love of nature. My Grandmother taught me about birds, Scrabble, flowers and family. Finding Tuffy on the road, after he had been hit by that car, and rushing him to the animal clinic - that strongly fueled my desire to be a vet. And images like this one taught me how amazing photography can be, how it enables us to bridge space and time, to recall the bright, laughter-filled moments of our past.
the sun-dappled, golden-furred, tree-climbing dog
Tuffy was a mix of four breeds: Golden Retriever, Cocker Spaniel, Sharpei and (possibly?) Labrador. He looked like a Golden Retriever, really, but with Corgi-type legs. He loved high places - wide tree branches, rooftops, even picnic tables were often preferable to the ground. He even learned how to climb the ladder into the treehouse.
I admit that I encouraged the habit, often carting that ladder around the farm, carrying him up it and depositing him in a branch ten feet off the ground, where he would quite happily start exploring. This tree, in particular, was one we both loved: it boasted three wide, nearly horizontal branches spaced only a few feet apart. It also looked out over my Grandma's place and, beyond that, cornfields that stretched into the sunset.
Those days are gone, of course. My childhood, my Grandmother. Tuffy was struck by a car during my early teenage years, and didn't make it. This tree, years later, was hit by a fierce lighting storm and split down the center. It's just a stump now.
All of those things make me ache just a bit, but not too badly. I don't think I took those days for granted. I remember sitting in that tree, early Autumn leaves dancing in the wind around me, the sun setting in the distance, a good book in my hand and a good dog nearby. I remember thinking, knowing, that those days were numbered. And when I think about, all of those things carry over into today's life. That tree encouraged a love of nature. My Grandmother taught me about birds, Scrabble, flowers and family. Finding Tuffy on the road, after he had been hit by that car, and rushing him to the animal clinic - that strongly fueled my desire to be a vet. And images like this one taught me how amazing photography can be, how it enables us to bridge space and time, to recall the bright, laughter-filled moments of our past.