A dog named Arrow…with a beautiful smile
came to the mountains…to visit with us for a while.
She didn’t come alone for this little dog depends
on the love and care of Bonnie, her owner…one of our oldest and dearest friends.
Bonnie named her dog Arrow…as a nod to the indigenous people
because she understands…
the wisdom and knowledge they possess as true caretakers of our land.
Walking Arrow I remember thinking I am like the bow
with her leash in my hand…pulling her back…as forward she tries to go.
I took this as a good sign…and by no means am I bragging
but every morning when she saw us…her tail wouldn’t stop wagging.
There is an Native American legend that when a human dies…
as those of us left behind are feeling the loss….
if that person is to get to heaven…there is a bridge that they must cross.
At the head of that bridge…waits every animal they have ever met….
any animals they’ve encountered…every chance meeting…every pet.
Based on what those animals know of that person…it’s up to them to say…
if that person crosses into heaven…of if they’re turned away.
I hope when I come to that bridge…(for I am a true believer)
among those greeting me will be Whitman…our favorite golden retriever…
followed by all the other animals…in my life’s collection…
and I hope a Arrow is at the head of the pack….
pointing me…
in the right direction.
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