Spot

 

 

They dug a hole and placed him in it. They shoveled dirt atop. They nailed a plaque onto a post.

They stood and mumbled words.

They bowed their heads.

They shed some tears.

They did it the way it was done.

The way friendships were supposed to close.

And still it did not feel right. That kind of burying. The post with painted plaque. The tidy mound of dirt over their spot.

The next day they lugged the old doghouse and placed it on him.

For rain.

For moss.

For bones.

Even for rot.

After all, Spot loved the lot.

 

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

 

51 thoughts on “Spot

  1. Na’ama Y’karah,

    And that poor Spot was not, his doghouse covered his plot. I’m sure they will miss him a lot. Eh wot? it’s hard to say goodbye to furry friends. They’re the ones who love unconditionally. ❤

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

  2. They leave us too soon. I guessed where this was going because my first dog’s name was Spot. At 16 we had to let him go. Such a lovely story of accepting the friendship as true and not ‘just a pet’.

    Liked by 1 person

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