Daily Prompt Intense: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/11/05/daily-prompt-intense/




Last October my dog Bear died, it was heartbreaking; I’ve lost pets before but this was a whole new level. I managed to get through it with a reasonable amount of sadness; we buried him on a little hill in a dog park. I just couldn’t go there for a while but when I finally did I wasn’t ready for what happened.

I pull up in my car and get out and before taking a few steps I realized the blanket I’d wrapped around him was only a few feet away. I stopped dead in my tracks, he was still wrapped up in it and the flowers and picture we’d put on his grave were piled on top of him. Someone had dug him up and done this; I couldn’t believe it.

WHY?! What would make someone do this? Clearly I had set up a little visitation area, I’d be back… so why would someone leave him like that for me to find? Now, I was there with my dad when he literally collapsed at my feet and died minutes later. Did I handle that well? No… but I handled that a heck of a lot better than what I found in that field that day. I’m not one for strong emotional responses; I’ll give myself a headache trying not to cry. I’ll seethe quietly in anger until pushed too far; then watch out.  I’m quick to laugh but not one to scream or jump around in excitement.

My knees literally buckled that day, I had trouble breathing. I made a sound I’ve never made before; it shocked me. I’ve seen death, I’ve experienced loss but this was a new. Maybe it’s because I’m older now, more emotional… maybe it a culmination of things? I don’t know; finally I got calmed down enough to drive and I went home and told my husband. He went back up there and came home an hour later after reburying Bear. He said someone else must’ve seen me and they’d put him back in the hole. Hubby buried him deeper, put lime on top of him to keep any animals away and piled rocks on top and replaced the flowers.

Still having a hard time with the why of what happened, but there is my “Intense” moment. I hope to never have to repeat…. by the way, now I have a parakeet. He’s a jerk, you can’t pet him but he likes music (Journey mostly) and  happily chirps when he’s happy and squawks when he’s upset… and…

He fits in a shoe box… just sayin’


Published by: Kawanee Hamilton

Kawanee was born in Alexandria Louisiana but her first real memories are of Russellville Arkansas. She's always loved to read, and has always had an vivid imagination. She grew up in a house where almost everyone read, they didn't need a TV although she could still be found planted on her butt in front of her grandma's TV watching cartoons on Saturday mornings. She made up her first story with her mother when her cat died; it was about where pets go when they die. She continued to create stories from bad dreams she had and her dad would help her change nightmares to stories. They would sit up in a chair until the scary went away. He told her that: "Dreams, good or bad, are just stories your mind makes up. You are the author of your dreams; if you don't like them rewrite them. " She was hooked and has continued to read and write stories drawing from dreams, sights and just pure imagination. She just recently decided she'd like to try and get published and fail than wonder what if. Her story continues but where it goes from here is up to you, the Reader... She hopes you'll join her in finding out where her journey goes from here!

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