A year or two ago I said I would share more about the dogs of Detroit.  I remembered while searching tonight for more of my Detroit.

I was looking for the name of a remaining sister of two twenty-somethings who attended corps activities with their children.  The only way was to find my file from Detroit days.  Found it.

Tasha and Delreese shyly admired our four children and told us so, and that they hoped theirs would grow up to be like ours.  They were sweet.

One morning her children tried to wake up Tasha.  She never did.

Here’s from the third week of January 2001.  dead dogs of Detroit.

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This week a dead dog between the eastbound lanes of Joy Road.  Late Tuesday night after dropping off Geri and the girls.  I am picking up speed in the van, just switched lanes.  And there it is, between the traffic lanes.  Glaring up at me as my van bounces along Joy Road.  It is a red dog, at first it looked so strange as to be an unknown animal.  Something discovered in the streets of Detroit, just as some new species is discovered in the depths of the Amazon rain forest or deep in the dark Congo.  But my mind tells me that it is only the remains of a dog, rather recently deceased.  Its head, face is set just so, looking upward into the bouncing light of headlamps, at me.  Its face is horrible.  A grimace of death, the violence of a vehicle, a bristling snarl of defense.  Frozen in death.  It made me feel nauseous, made some little thing deep inside me quiver.  It is dark, late, cold.  I feel uneasy.

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Also, a dog, curled up on the left shoulder of the ramp leading from southbound Southfield to the eastbound Jeffries.  A brown dog now even browner from the grime of freeway traffic.  It is the opposite of the Joy Road dog.  Instead of facing the world it is curled up and facing away, as if hurt.  Can a dead dog be hurt?  It seems to be intact, the body shows no sign of violence.  Gail says that someone dumped it there.  I don’t believe her, it’s such a dangerous spot on the freeway.  I never feel safe there even while traveling it in a vehicle, in the travel lane.

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The dog in our Belleterre snowbank.  The snow is melting.  When will it appear?  Apocalyptically, bringing shrieks from some child?  Or in mild tones as it emerges a little bit of fur today and a little bit more tomorrow?

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Why do we have so many dead dogs in Detroit?snarl picture

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