Umber (47.12 — Oleander’s Story)

August 17, 2012 § Leave a comment

In the days that followed, I would wake up each morning and be struck anew with the realization that my father was gone.  Mama and Miss Brigid usually tried to act as if everything would be alright, but most of the time I walked around feeling as if I was carrying a very heavy boulder inside my rib cage.

The only time I forgot my misery was when Silvertip wanted to play.  He had a better sense of humor than most of the humans I knew.  It seemed like he could tell when I was feeling desolate, so he did his best to cheer me up, licking my face, thumping his tail on the floor, and bouncing his red rubber ball on my foot so I would throw it for him.  At night, Mama let him sleep with me, something she’d never allowed before.

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