(2/27/25)

I must admit, I'm still sad about every dead pet, and I am really tired. When I was a kid I had a lizard that never became an adult. He stopped itself. He sat in my childhood bedroom and ran himself thin. The cause of death was many different things, and I hate to count among them neglect. We buried him (or her, it's always to hard to tell) in our backyard near the tree line, designated by a small wooden cross. I never took my lizard to be Christian, but if all dogs go to heaven (they don't), then I expect that he is there too, stinking up the place just like he did on Earth. We moved from that house about a decade ago. The cross has probably withered away by now, or it has been ran over by a Bush Hog. I sometimes imagine returning to that spot along the trees just to see if I can find it again. Would the world have the decency to allow me that?

~clancy