A black and white photograph
of an infant and a dog seated
together on the lawn featured in
that ancient album. That’s you, she
said, and that’s Bill. Yes, there was
resemblance to the face she claimed
was me in other photographs, a
likeness where I gained a sense of
me-ness. But was it me? I never
knew the dog although the name
remained attached, a sobriquet that
leant a word to date this piece of
early history. Mystery remained
in place; the dog was small, he
sat at ease within those arms and
licked the face. Adoration plainly
seen – devotion etched. How on
earth could I forget such lavish love as
that? I can’t explain, my only guess
– the photograph is not of me...
© 6 March, 2007 I.D. Carswell
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