S
SeaMaiden
Missy Dawg is past tense. She rests her bones under our old black oak at the southeast corner of the house. Saint Francis watches over her now, along with Yoshi the leopard gecko and Cali the Incredibly Old Cat. If I could make it so, I would be buried next to them, too. No coffin, no box to keep the roots and worms away from my bones and flesh, just me, the earth, the tree, and life.
I even made up a song for her, sung to the tune of Davey Crockett.
"Missy! Miscellaneous!
She's a miscellaneous daaawwgg!
Missy! Miscellaneous..
She's a miscellaneous dawg!
She's Miss Missy
Miscellaneous..
She's a miscellaneous daaawg"
Yeah, I know, lacks creativity. But it rolls off the tongue and the dog's tail would wag and she'd squinch her eyes at me, every time I sang the song.
May you and Scooby the Windy know the many pleasurable years I did with Missy Dawg. Fool dawg.
I even made up a song for her, sung to the tune of Davey Crockett.
"Missy! Miscellaneous!
She's a miscellaneous daaawwgg!
Missy! Miscellaneous..
She's a miscellaneous dawg!
She's Miss Missy
Miscellaneous..
She's a miscellaneous daaawg"
Yeah, I know, lacks creativity. But it rolls off the tongue and the dog's tail would wag and she'd squinch her eyes at me, every time I sang the song.
May you and Scooby the Windy know the many pleasurable years I did with Missy Dawg. Fool dawg.