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Welp, it’s done. Fly lived a long 17 some-odd years, mostly spent roaming the five acres in Quinlan, then confined to the back yard on Schmitz, then confined to a room and patio in the city. We buried her today, wrapped in the purple towel I dried her off with after her last bath, in a rut that my uncle carved out of the black Texas clay/sand with his shiny new John Deere tractor. We also buried my cousin’s cat, Token, who died passed roughly at the same time as Fly. Literally; he passed around midnight Thurs/Fri and Fly was gone by 2AM Friday morning. I feel a little better now that she’s buried, especially since we got to take her back out to Quinlan where it all started when mom found her and two fluffy puppies in a ditch in the middle of a hailstorm. I’m gonna miss her There’s so much more to say about her because even though she was “just a dog” she did more for me than most humans in my immediate life. Phew. Time for a swim. (Yes, Tyndis, we have internet AND a swimming pool in Quinlan.) 
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