I don’t know about you, but sometimes individual words catch my attention and refuse to let go. This time the culprit was the word “just.” Turns out it’s a hardworking, utilitarian little devil with an interesting range of meanings.
Only. Fair and reasonable. Singular. Equitable. Suitable. Simply.
Some Days It Doesn’t Feel Just
I’ll wait for another post to catch you up on some of the things that have changed since my husband died. It’s a long list. Not much of it feels even a little bit suitable, equitable, or reasonable. A lot of it really stinks.
One of the things on the long list is a move to a much smaller house, with all that it entails. Downsizing involves a seemingly endless process of sorting and gifting, donating and tossing. Under other circumstances, more of that would have happened before we moved.
One of the things that doesn’t stink (at least figuratively — lol) is that, even while I settle, I live here with all of my dogs. Yes, you read that right. Four large dogs in a tiny house.
Just Some Badass Bitches
My husband’s illness and subsequent death rattled me to the point that I have been unable to write for a considerable period of time. Unable to start from scratch, I returned to my outdated collection of “draft” posts, I came across the beginning of one that included a well-loved poem about the relationship between a human and his dog. And while the language in Gene Hill’s poem is distinctly male, my dogs and I are what some friends have called “a five-pack of badass bitches.” One of them, my oldest German Shepherd Dog is shown here, in full “tourist mode” from an easier time. Another is practicing her obedience.
A Detour Back to Poetry
My brother-in-law’s recent success has me thinking about poetry much more often than is usual for me. In this particular poem, I love Hill’s use of contrast. Any dog lover will recognize (and likely identify with) the depth of feeling behind each of the ordinary moments and gestures he describes, emphasized by use of the minimizing word “just.”
“The girls” have kept me going, given me a reason to get up in the morning, and made me accountable. They may be “just” my dogs… or they just may have saved my life. 
Just My Dog
He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds;
my other ears that hear above the winds.
He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea.
He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being;
by the way he rests against my leg;
by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile;
by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him.
(I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.)
When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive.
When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile.
When I am happy, he is joy unbounded.
When I am a fool, he ignores it.
When I succeed, he brags.
Without him, I am only another man.
With him, I am all-powerful.
He is loyalty itself. He has taught me the meaning of devotion.
With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace.
He has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant.
His head on my knee can heal my human hurts.
His presence by my side is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things.
He has promised to wait for me… whenever… wherever – in case I need him.
And I expect I will – as I always have.
He is just my dog.
– Gene Hill
Let’s connect on social media.
