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choosing a spot When the Heeler Mom died, we buried her where she had so often laid... in the shade of the cherry tree. Though, hating the out-of-doors as much as she did, I suspect this was a favored spot because it was next to the gate, and the path back into the house, more than anything else. When it came time to bury her unmasked daughter two winters ago, the spot was obvious. She had always laid hidden under the long branches of the currant bush that formed a bower over the garden fence. Not two meters from her mom. When the boys were excavating her frozen grave, we told them to leave room in between the two for the masked sister. For where else would she want to be laid? Today, after three weeks of blizzards, wind, closed highways and sub-freezing temperatures, the sun is out. Green grass is peeking out amongst the brown, and the grape hyacinths are blooming. The only snowdrift left is the remains of the six-footer by the garage. And the wife is out working the yard. And brought the feeble, skinny, stumbling, masked heeler out with her to enjoy the sun's warmth. And where, when her tired legs can no longer hold her up does the blind heeler lay down to rest? In between her mom and her sister. |
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