Table of Contents
1. Back in the spring he began to limp. 2
2. At the clinic, I couldn’t stay quiet. 2
3. The injection was quick. 2
4. That night I heard a thump. 3
5. Evening shrouded the house in quiet. 4
6. One morning while my husband was away, I saw the blur racing through the yard. 4
7. That night, there came a rustling of the bedspread at my feet. 4
8. I decided it best to keep Buddy to myself. 5
9. Can’t you see? I asked. 5
10. It was then I knew I had no choice. 5
11. The earth turned three times and settled into darkness. 5
Works Cited 8
Instructor: M. Werner
April 11, 2016
Beneath the Crape Myrtle
Buddy is buried under the ...view middle of the document...
The milk I was pouring splashed out of the bowl. My husband cursed, shaking his wet sleeve. I looked out the window, saw nothing, and dismissed the blur for a bird. Was it a raven? No, bigger. I cleaned up the mess, and retrieved a clean shirt. Throughout the day, I found myself looking out the window, wondering.
4. That night I heard a thump.
Did you hear it? I asked my husband. The house settling, he said. I lay in the dark, listening, my thoughts on the blur I’d seen that morning. There’s the sound again, I whispered. My husband mumbled and turned away, pulling the covers around his ears. I crept through the dark house to the back door. By the time I got there, Buddy was gone. I didn’t sleep again that night.
The next day, I opened the door to get the paper and found an old steak bone. A gift left on the doorstep. I showed my husband. He shook his head. A coincidence, he said. He took the bone and threw it into the garbage under the sink. (Modern Langauge Association)
5. Evening shrouded the house in quiet.
The fire crackled in the corner stove and the air was in turns chilled and warmed. Buddy would have been there beside me on the sofa, curled into a ball, his nose tucked under the curve of his back leg, his eyes gazing up at me. I looked at my husband sitting in his chair, reading. He hadn’t looked longingly at the spot where Buddy liked to nap, the carpet fibers frizzy from his pawing. He hadn’t listened for the scratch at the back door. He wasn’t heartsick from grief. I miss him, I said, caressing the sofa cushion to my left. You loved that dog too much, my husband said. He put his book down and walked from the room. Yes, I thought. More than you ever did.
6. One morning while my husband was away, I saw the blur racing through the yard.
I opened the door and whispered, come in. A rush of wind moved the hem of my skirt. An unexpected joy filled me. You are welcome here, I whispered, closing the door. The rest of the day was sweet. The house calm and my heart at peace.
7. That night, there came a rustling of the bedspread at my feet.
I felt Buddy’s hot breath against my ear. My pounding heart whooshed in my ears and the moon cast blue shadows across the room. I slid from the bed and slipped into my bathrobe. Together we exited the house. Buddy was eager to show me his world. He raced around the yard and the night air whipped through my hair. Buddy dug around the ginger bushes and the dirt caked beneath my fingernails. He howled at the moon and together our voices mingled into a symphony of hope and of grief.
8. I decided it best to keep Buddy to myself.
My husband would roll his eyes. Give me you-know-better-than-this looks. But it became difficult to hide the fact that I no longer fetched the morning paper. Or know how to answer when he accused me of digging holes in the...