On a brightly sunny morning, Ellie and I returned to her favorite shore near the Gateway of the Chemung River. Her ashes were scattered to the wind and onto the water, right where she loved to swim. We were watched only by a lone eagle and three inquisitive gulls, who checked to see if anything good was being offered.
The Chemung will never feel the same for me. And I am no longer the River Hag with her familiar, a little brindle digger-dog, hunter-dog, RiverDog.
Birders and Hikers: don't give your heart to a faithful four-footed follower.
She'll break your heart too soon, for sure. Far too soon.
pb
Little Pond
