Love On Lockdown

I have friends who recently had to 'put down' their dog. I observed my friend's wife describe the tragedy of his pain and agony prior to his demise. My dear friends grieved as one would who has lost a loving family member. I know the feeling, because I have been down that path before. Oh, how I greatly related to their grief and understood their loss. As I was listening to her, in an instance, I was taken down the bereavement corridors of my memory bank. In a flash, I was some 60 years removed from the present scene to another place and time, on the side of a dirt road next to a cotton field. My siblings and I wept bitterly over the death of my dog name Jack. As I listened attentively to my friend's painful story, I was awakened to a reality that I had never seriously entertained. For all those years, I never acquired a dog except one we purchased for our children who in relatively short order, lost interest. We named him Jack, but were forced to give him away, hoping that a deserving family would love and care for him. We never saw him again. As my friend shared their pain and loss, it appears that for the first time I was confronted with the fact that 60 years ago, something happened to my emotions that rendered me incapable of ever loving a dog again. It occurred to me that it's possible, that subconsciously I was cast into what I would describe as a love lock-down mode. Back then, I experienced a love-loss on such a grand scale that I, though unintentionally, refused to love again. I do not dislike dogs in general. It's just that I don't seem to be able to wrap my heart around one for my very own. The dog I once loved was shot to death by a farmer for the offense of trespassing on his property. After Jack's death, love for another dog has not entered my heart. 07202017FBPSContest, Lost Love, John Hamilton CSOTS31218