9.11.2005You were gone before I could tell you to quit yer bitchin.
You fell in the middle of an ellipse, big and black, like an oil stain. It wasn't fresh; it wasn't blood. It was the heat of your last breaths, and it formed a halo around your body.
I dug your grave today, in the front yard where you would run to when I tried to keep you close to the porch.
Your toys and food bowl and litter box are still scattered around the house. I dont want to put them away.