My Buddy’s Gone

[dropcap]L[/dropcap]ast night we lost my buddy. He was a strange pup. He always slept in the bathtub, and Christmas trees terrified him.

It was the oddest thing you ever saw, he’d sit right next to you when you had the sniffles, and he wouldn’t move all damn day, not even when you went to the bathroom. Whenever I’d play piano, he’d nudge his big butt up against the pedals underneath my feet, and so help me, he’d grin. And even though he’d heard almost every song I’ve ever played, I’ll go to my¬†grave believing that “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” was his favorite, though there’s no way to be certain.

He adored the humidity of our world, and the smells of our backyard, at times camping out there for days on end, tucked away from sight. He’d hide himself behind a bush of palmettos, surrounded by his best friends, the squirrels, his buried bones, his stuffed animals, and his pig ears, and I believe he was happy there.

And now my running partner is in our backyard forever.

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