Umber (47.31 — Oleander’s Story)

September 7, 2012 § Leave a comment

I tried to mind Mama and Miss Brigid, but I wanted so much to see my dog, and tell him to get better.  I could hear Mama talking to him; it sounded like she was crying.

Finally I put on my old bedroom slippers and walked out the kitchen door.

Silvertip was lying on a blanket in a shady spot next to the back steps.  His legs stuck out stiffly; occasionally he gave a shudder.  His eyes were glassy.  Mama was wiping his muzzle off with a wet washcloth.  She had smudges of dirt on her face, and there were long streaks on her cheeks from tears that were running down them.  She looked up, and reached her hand out to me.



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