Missing by Shei Sanchez


I lost my dog & within a few days, I gained more friendships.
Some were resurrected. Others bloomed like algae.
An irregular kind of week.

But I was too engulfed in Facebook & Petfinder to notice.
Scrolling past Dixie Chic the pitbull, Lady Featherington the Newfoundland mix.
Bracing to find my canine re-christened as Wedgington or Pontus.

I still call him Kitchen Companion, Soccer, Human Whisperer.
His nose surfing the floor for food detritus.
The white fur of his legs like the pulled up socks of a goalkeeper.
The largesse of his heart.

I post my lost dog & within hours, his face was found everywhere.
Two-dimensional pixels of Red, Green, Blue.
But his presence pointed to nowhere
& everywhere else faded with the amber of the dying day.

My dog lost his way & in one morning, his home got larger.
More trees & rocks to sleep under.
Enough January snow & a swollen river to drink.
Plenty of sky to feel unalone.

But the storm’s white blankets played with his senses,
& this winter gambled with my sensibility.

I lost my dog & in one day, I lost me.
An irregular life.
But keep calling him, I say
– even after the snow’s been swallowed by the sun.


Shei Sanchez’s recent work can be found in Woodhall Press’s anthology Nonwhite and Woman, Still: The Journal, One by Jacar Press, and Women of Appalachia Project’s Women Speak, Volume 7. She lives by the Hocking River with her partner and their bouncy herd of goats.

2 thoughts on “Missing by Shei Sanchez

  1. The last dog I had, really was the last one. When he lost a battle with a snake, I could not talk myself into getting another. That one broke me. I am still sad of over him.

    I felt that sadness all over here… as it should be.

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