Running east to the Sun

 This entry was written a few years ago, the actual event took place in October 28, 1988. 

 My first dog - Caccha (Kasha).  What I like is the memory it conjures and promises of the future.

Running East to the Sun

      She was placed in the shallow poorly dug grave with her front paws side by side reaching as if in a gallop; the underside of her muzzle just touching her forelimbs.  There she lay in the small hole under a lone cedar tree on the steep hillside.  The tree no more than ten feet high had a fallen branch on which to sit, often the dog and her mistress would find refuge under this tree.  The two would sit and watch the world go by, watching the sun rise and set, listen to the breezes blow through field grass, the aroma of manure, old and new from Holsteins, wafted past.  On this sorrow, filled day the mistress sat alone while her dog buried in the earth beside.  There in her final resting space she was running East, towards the sun, directly to familiar land of a time gone by.