The snow piles Brut and I sat on were the result of raking the deep snow off the garage roof. I had to knock them down for fear of one of the dogs getting on the garage roof, they were that high.
It seemed as if the world had just stopped moving that frigid night. Brut sat erect and elongated listening for the faintest sound. Ears slowly moving with bat radar this way and that. The rest of the dogs had gone in, but not Brut, my winter die hard, he climbed the top the snow pile and smiled. He was in his element. We both were and I climbed to the top to sit next to him.
I carefully followed the ears and head of this magnificent snow beast. Keeping a close eye of that little twitch of alertness when he connected with a resonance. I shifted my eyes to his line of sight and turned my head with his. And we sat that way for some time. Syncing in alignment we were mindful of each other and the world around us. So simple and true we sat close together, his bristled fur just whispering across my jacket. This was us, the two snow dogs of the household that left me with a memory as clear as the stars that chilly night and a friend that lays in my heart, forever.
