Bogey lived with us for over 14 years. One thing about her: she was always herself. Always one ear cocked to a distant drummer, maybe a bagpipe in the border lands. She had games that only she understood, strict rules about the timing and boundaries of a rousing game of ball, for example. The hinge on the back door was an object of studied contemplation, and efforts to violate its space on the part of our dog Sunny, or any passer-by for that matter, were met with stiff resistance and frantic circling.
She loved to circle; we imagined her herding imaginary sheep, following an inner gyroscope invisible to the rest of us. She loved it so much we had to set up an obstacle course in the back yard to change her tracks and save the grass. (more…)