Ode to Tucker, our little “Boo.”
Life is tough these days as we lost a member of our family last weekend.
The worn corner of the comforter where you slept nearly brings me to tears every time I go in the bedroom. It’s hard to eat dinner now as all of us miss you with your soft muzzle gently accepting handouts. For six years your candle burned bright. You loved each of us unconditionally and in your own special way, like no dog we’d had before.
You reigned over your backyard daring the squirrels to trespass on your kingdom, but giving the birds a free pass, even the Mocking Bird who made a game of dive bombing you. The conch shells you enjoyed gnawing on lay scattered at the edge of the pool deck where you left them. Along with the flowers, your favorite sticks from the wood pile decorate your grave.
Time will merely dull the cavernous heartache and we’ll feel guilty for moving on as life requires, but will we will always love you with all of our hearts, our sweet and loving Tucker, aka “Boo.”
Shane is a shape-shifting hawk in conflict with his true nature and just lost is loving great-grandfather who was like him. He has just arrived at his great-aunt’s house to pay his respects.
In the curve of Nona’s horseshoe drive sat a sleek, red Mustang he didn’t recognize.
His animal instinct flared as he turned her doorknob. A cackle of female voices from the kitchen pricked his ears. With his mouth set in a grim line, he crossed the small living room in three long strides. A short, plump woman with a thick braid of black hair turned toward his footsteps. Her soft, brown eyes lit at the sight of him.
“Shane,” she called mournfully, stepping into his embrace.
“Nona.” He hugged her tightly, swallowing hard.
Right now White Doe is on sale for 99c at Amazon. Hope you’ve enjoyed this week’s snippet and will hop over to other Weekend Writing Warriors‘ blogs.