Before I arrived in the world and my grandparents had a human to dote on, there was Duke, the great Dane who presided over Sugarbridge, their Pennsylvania farm. Muse and best friend, Duke appeared frequently in my grandparents’ books, essays and illustrations.
As dogs do, Duke took over the furniture. He ran alongside my grandmother on her Morgan steed, bounding over stone walls and meadowlands. He posed patiently as my grandfather sketched him. He consumed their lives, their hearts, their world.
I know Duke only in a two-dimensional, black-and-white universe. Yet he lives on, as dogs do. Larger than life.
You write so beautifully like silk falling onto the mind, words so well chosen with such incredible imagery. Merci
always with us, watching us ~ no matter the size they are all gentle giants in our lives. thanks amie!