Lucy, our Yellow Lab and my first dog, turned 13 last year. While she has always maintained her sweet disposition, we could definitely see her growing old. She could no longer hear very well, had lost one eye to glaucoma, and could no longer bear weight on her rear leg. Despite her ailments, our whole family loved her more than ever.
As an only child, I always longed for a dog, but until Lucy, I never had one. My mother was afraid of dogs, at least until we got Lucy. She has now learned to love Lucy as much as we do.
In 13 years, Lucy has witnessed many changes in our family. Adam was nine and Dan five when we brought her home; now Adam is a writer in New York City and Dan is a sophomore at the University of Wisconsin. When they left home last year after Christmas vacation, they feared they might never see her again. Before they left, each spent tearful moments alone with her, in their rooms.
Over the years, Lucy and I often have had meaningful conversations, not just the normal master-dog, command-response exchanges, but soulful explorations, usually while we were alone on a trail at County Farm Park. With her expressive Lab face, her head cocked to one side, and those amber, imploring eyes, Lucy has been an excellent listener. She rarely interrupts or turns the conversation toward herself.
This book is a collection of my conversational poems to Lucy. If you ever talk to your pet, contemplate what it means to grow old, wonder about the origins of the universe, grieve losses, celebrate the miracle of a comet at sunset, give your dog ice cream, long for reunions with old friends, or wonder about God, this book may bring you some pleasure.
