walking home sunday i came across a striped kitty sock doll by the road. it was not there 2 hours ago when i walked out. i picked it up to take with me, and pictures filled my brain -- child crying in grief and disbelief 'my kitty's gone!' and kind but grumpy parents turning the car around to drive the road searching. i set it on the rocks where it could be seen, and safe from fox kits.
oh that night was dark and very cold. at least, no rain.
in the morning i felt guilty, but told myself these long cold nights of the soul can bring new understanding and compassion, even to sock dolls. i pulled the car over and walked to the rocks, dusted it off as curious staring faces drove by. set it in the seat next to me and drove back onto the road, crying.
i reached over, moved it to my lap. here with me now it lives in the land of lost toys.
someone's inner doctor jung will have the use of it 30 years from now; someone who will still dream of his lost kitty, as i do.