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作者:Jennifer Finney Boylan


校对:刘   璠

策划:刘   璠

Inside of a Dog


本文选自 The New York Times | 取经号原创翻译

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I took her picture last year, one sparkling autumn day, as she stood on our dirt road waiting for me. There was a bright red maple leaf on the ground.


This fall, I held that photo in my hands as the tears rolled down. Eva Cassidy was singing on the radio: “But I miss you most of all, my darling, when autumn leaves start to fall.”


This is the season when columnists write stories about lives that came to an end during the year and remember small acts of grace — those gifts that cannot be asked for, only received. Here’s mine.


My sons were 12 and 10 in 2006, and our family had been through a wrenching couple of years. And yet, we’d emerged on the other side of those days still together, the four of us plus Ranger, the black lab. Our lives revolved around that dog, and one another. But we worried that Ranger felt puny when we weren’t around. Sometimes we arrived back at the house to hear him howling piteously. It was heartbreaking, his loneliness.


puny /ˈpju:ni/ adj.(disapproving) small and weak 弱小的;孱弱的

piteous /ˈpɪtiəs/ adj. (literary) deserving or causing pity 可怜的;令人怜悯的;令人同情的

Then, someone emailed us about this dog named Indigo. She’d had puppies a few months before, and now she needed a home. Were the Boylans interested?


The Boylans were. And so Indigo joined us, as Ranger’s wing-dog. When she first stepped through the door, her underbelly still showed the recent signs of the litter she’d delivered. Between the wise, droopy face and the swinging dog teats, she was a sight to behold.


underbelly [N-COUNT 可数名词] 动物的下腹部;交通工具的底部,下部;The underbelly of an animal or a vehicle is the underneath part of it. [usu with supp]

She had a nose for trouble. On one occasion, I came home to find that she’d eaten a five-pound bag of flour. She was covered in white powder, and flour pawprints were everywhere. I asked the dog what had happened, and Indy just looked at me with a glance that said, “I cannot imagine what you are referring to.”


Time passed. Our boys grew up and went off to college. I left my job at Colby College in Maine and joined the faculty at Barnard College in New York. My mother died at age 94. The mirror, which had reflected a young mom when Indigo first barged through the door, now showed a woman in late middle age. I had surgery for cataracts. I began to lose my hearing. We all turned gray: me, my spouse, the dogs.


This summer, I took Indigo for one last walk. She was slow and unsteady on her paws. She looked up at me mournfully. “You did say you’d take care of me, when the time came,” her eyes said. “You promised.”


She died on an August afternoon, a tennis ball at her side.


Sometimes, this autumn, I’d find myself looking for her, as if she might be sleeping in one of my children’s empty bedrooms. But she wasn’t there.


When you lose a dog, you not only lose the animal that has been your friend, you also lose a connection to the person you have been. For a dozen years, Indigo had been a constant, part of the glue that held us together. Now she was gone.


Then one day I got a call from the place where we board our dogs when we are out of town, a “bed ’n’ biscuit” called Willow Run. One of their customers was dying of cancer. Her dog, Chloe, was a black lab, and she needed a home. We rolled our eyes. They had to be kidding. We were in mourning, and we were pretty sure we didn’t want another big dog, especially an older one, and we were just too banged up. We told them we were sorry, but no.

一天,我接到了Willow Run宠物寄养中心打来的电话,平时我们出远门的时候会把狗狗寄养在那里。他们的一位顾客由于癌症即将离世。她有一条黑色的拉布拉多犬Chloe需要一个新家。我们翻了一个白眼,心想:开什么玩笑,我们刚刚失去爱犬,肯定不想再收养另一条大狗,特别是年纪大的狗狗。Indigo的死令我们伤心至极。我告诉他们,我们感到非常抱歉,但无能为力。

banged up adj. injured or damaged 受伤的;损坏的

Then, one weekend when I picked up Ranger after an overnight at Willow Run, I met Chloe. Her face was soft. I asked, maybe I could just take her home for a day? You know how this story ends.

后来的一个周末,我去Willow Run把寄养了一夜的Ranger接回家。在那里,我遇到了Chloe。她的脸软软的。我问店员,能不能带她回家呆一天?但你应该能够猜到她肯定呆了不止一天。

When Chloe entered our house, she was cautious and uncertain. She spent hours that first day going to every corner, sniffing things out. At the end of the day she sat down by the fireplace and gave me a look. “If you wanted,” she seemed to say, “I would stay with you.”


Ranger has a new wing-dog.


I had hopes of having a conversation with Chloe’s owner, trying to learn what their history had been. I wanted to bring Chloe over to her house so that her owner could know that her dog had a good home, so that the two of them could have a proper farewell. When I finally got through, though, I learned that Chloe’s owner had died the week before.


It snowed that night, and I woke up in a room made mysterious by light and stillness. In the morning I sat up and found that Chloe had climbed into bed with us as we slept.


“Well?,” she asked. I touched her soft ears in the bright, quiet room and thought about the gift of grace.


“If you wanted,” I said, “I would stay with you, too.”








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