The Friday it happened, I went about my business as usual, helping nature beautify the world. I’d seen a lot of strange objects in my line of work: deflated balls; rusted costume jewelry; musty leather wallets with soggy dollar bills; even a diamond ring, which I had to return to its divorced owner.
But I’d never seen what I came across on that afternoon, between the hydrangea bushes and the to-be-planted dogwood trees.
Tom Halloway had called the week before. “Joel, how’s it going, buddy,” he began. Then he asked me to clean out his Dad’s 2-acre yard. Offered me $2,000 for two days of work, so of course I accepted the job. I was known more for my landscaping business, but for the right price, I’d clean up a yard too, make it more presentable just with some digging, weeding, and mulch. I convinced Tom that for an extra $800 his dad’s land would improve with more flowering trees; we decided on a mimosa and two dogwoods.
The two young Hispanic men who do the grunt work for me began to dig by the side of the house, near the rhodies and azaleas. Suddenly, José shouted for me to come over. I’d been sipping a tall glass of lemonade with Tom’s dad – 90 at least and as ornery as a wasp. He looked shrewdly toward José, who was waving frantically.
I sauntered over in the 85-degree heat. It was a scorcher, and I really wanted to finish my lemonade. But I stopped short as I saw the question mark in José’s eyes and then the strong white bones at his feet. They had been buried under just a foot of dirt and weeds. I gulped when Tom’s father limped toward us painfully despite his cane.
“Lucky,” he said simply. A tear escaped from one eye – his good eye I presumed. “My Lucky Charm.”
“Excuse me?” I asked. The old guy wasn’t senile, but I wondered right then if his mind was going.
“I buried Mr. Lucky Charm there half a year ago. Best damn dog a man could ask for. He was my companion for 14 years. Died of old age. Just like me, soon’s enough. I buried him near the hydrangeas. He loved to pee on ‘em, even though I told him not to.”
The tears flowed freely now. Mr. Halloway gave the sign of the cross, blew his nose, and walked away.
I took the shovel from José and began to dig a three-foot hole. Sweat streamed from my face into the black dirt. Then I buried the bones and said a prayer of thanks for good dogs and old men and summer days.
I retrieved a long wooden stick in the back of my pickup. Using my good black pen, I inscribed Lucky before sticking it into the filled-up hole. Then I whispered softly, “Rest in peace.”
I heard a whispered sigh behind me. As I turned toward the sound, Mr. Halloway tipped his head ever so slightly and limped back toward the front porch.
A sneaky misleading clover pic worked like a dream. Well done
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Smiling. I am not averse to being called sneaky, particularly as a writer. 😏
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Understood 🙂
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🙂 🙂
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The clover pic fooled me, too, Derrick.
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Thanks, Liz
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You’re welcome, Derrick.
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This is a very nice story, Pam.
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Thanks Robbie. It came out of my imagination and yet I think it really happened. Somewhere. Thank goodness for kindness.
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😊
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nice one –
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Thanks Beth! 🍀
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Very good. This one made my eyes leak.
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Kindness does that to us, I think. Gives us a tear in the eye and hope for our human race. 💚
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Oh! For all those best friends. 😢
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I miss my best doggy friend so much! Hes not buried under the hydrangeas though but in a memorial garden for beloved animals. 💚
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It’s so hard to lose them. 💙
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The world would be a better place if it was filled with people like your landscaper. Have a lovely weekend Pam.
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Kindness blooms all around us. We just have to look. So agree Bernadette! 💖
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Beautiful Pam.
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Thank you Brenda. Although this is fiction I bet this has happened more times than one. 💚
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I would imagine so.
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If our landscaper finds a diamond ring, I hope he’ll return it to its rightful, un-divorced owner.
Great one, Pam! Thank you for noticing “good dogs and old men and summer days.” 😀
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I remember your lost diamond ring Marian and perhaps I should send Joel over to your place. 😎
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Great idea!
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Lovely story, as usual. Happy Weekend!
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I love finding kindness blooming in all kinds of places and in the hearts of all kinds of people. 🤓
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Thanks for the heart smiles Pam.
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And there’s nothing better than heart smiles, is there Brad? Sending a heart smile to you. 😍
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Thanks. 🙂
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I love dog stories. This is excellent.
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Dogs are so much a part of our lives, or at least they should be! Therefore, they deserve good stories and special memorial spots. 🍀🧡
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Sad and lovely story. Always tough to lose an animal companion.
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For me, tears come still at unexpected times. And it’s been eight years! I think that a dog’s love is always buried in our hearts.
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I broke into tears a few years ago recalling the death of the dog I had when I was a kid!
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Wow. Yes, dogs never leave our hearts and minds. When I was little (my parents tell me) I shared my lollipop with Freddie the Cocker Spaniel happily. (one lick for me, one for him) I don’t remember the lollipop, but I do remember my first doggy-love.
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A very deep and lasting love…
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A beautiful story, Pam.
But, just to show you where my head was at, when the bones revealed themselves, I immediately thought, “Uh oh. That landscapers is working for a retired serial killer.”
Sometimes I’m amazed that I write books for children…
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I am not at all amazed that you write children’s stories, Mike. You are still such a kid! Thus, bones equals serial killer. 😀🙃😜
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A kid? A curmudgeonly kid, perhaps…
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Heartstrings pulled. Lovely! ❤️
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The best humans are those that can have their hearts strung from love and memory. 💓
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How beautiful, Pam! Thank you…’strung from love and memory’. xo! 🥰
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Haha. That human skull had me wondering who it was that the old man killed.
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Yeah, I kind of delivered a little tricky one with the photo there Anneli. But it kept those who really want murderers and blood and guts to keep on reading. 😃😇
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Whatever works!
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For the past two days, I’ve seen Orly in everything I do. Thanks for another reminder of how much I still love her.
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I think it’s perfectly natural that you see Orly everywhere because Orly IS everywhere still. Always. Our Henry appears the same way for us. Here’s to dog love forever. 💕
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I like the way you have woven love, suspense and kindness into this feel-good story. 🥰
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Thank you so much Balroop. I think life is made up of a lot of love suspense and hopefully kindness. May it be so. 💖
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A sweet story, Pamela.
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Even though the old man is crotchety and unhappy, his love shines through in the story doesn’t it? Thanks so much, John.
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It does.
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Wow, Pam, it wasn’t at all what I was expecting. Of course, I was expecting a dead body or even that there would be another body beneath the dog’s bones. But I agree with John Howell that this is a sweet story and I love that the man buried his dog where he liked to pee! 🙂
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I have to tell you Carol that when I began the story from the prompt to “write about a lucky charm,” I thought there was going to be a dead body too. But then the old man surprised me just as he surprised you the reader. I like the way it turned out better! Here’s to doggy love. 💗
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A touching story ❤
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Thanks, Rosaliene.
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A touching story, Pam, that hit me straight in the heart. Been there, and the pain of losing our four-legged friends never goes away no matter what we say to ourselves. ❤ ❤
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NEVER!! I still “talk” to my Henry, and he’s been gone 8 years. Golden dog. And I’m telling you, he answers at times. ❤
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That’s so sweet, Pam. They’re angels their whole lives and beyond into the next one.
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I loved this heartwarming story!
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Thanks much, Liz. ❤
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You’re welcome, Pam.
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What a sweet story! xo
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Thanks Jill!
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As a dog lover, I was touched by this story. When we had to put our last dog down (cancer), my wife talked about burying him in our backyard, but I couldn’t do it. (Physically and mentally, that would be hard for me.) We took Jake’s passing hard, as he was the best dog of the eight we’ve owned.
Great job on the simile—”Tom’s dad was as ornery as a wasp.” 😊
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I loved that, too!
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I was pleased with that simile, too, Pete. Thanks for the kudos. 🙂 Yes, we considered a backyard burial for our dogs (separate times) but ended up having each one cremated and placing the box in our yard under a favorite tree. I liked that compromise. Here’s to our loving/well-loved pets.
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I’m not gonna lie…. for a fraction of a minute, I worried about what kind of bones those were! This is much better and I went from fear to feeling all fuzzy and warm with the kindness shown here. Our pets are members of our family and dear to us.
Have a lovely weekend.
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Honestly, Dale, when Joel found the bones, I was stupefied. Whaaaa? But then the old man (characters DO tell us writers their stories) set me straight. This is why I feel that fiction is more truth, sometimes, than non-fiction. xo
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You have to give time to the old men and listen their stories – they really are such a wonderful source of history and such. Yes, fiction is so often more true than truth!
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💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
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❤
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Well done!!
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So glad you enjoyed my “lucky charm” story, Liz.
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I expected it to go down a criminal path, but I’m glad that it turned out to be a warm, moving story.
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Thanks, Andrea. I tend to go the way of “warm and moving.” I suppose it’s my m.o., but it’s the way I like to see the world, for sure. xo
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Dammit, Pam!!! This one literally made me tear up. 😦
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Tears are signs of a true heart. So, thank you for feeling my story in your heart. ❤
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-huge hugs-
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Heartwarming and a bit sad. Glad Lucky has a marker now. Lucky will be waiting for him.
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Yes, a marker of love (thanks to a kind man). I do hope that we see our loved/loving animals again in the next realm. ❤
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Boy, that made a turn I didn’t see coming! But I’m also glad the bones didn’t mean what I thought they would. Great story.
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I love a story with a twist(s). And this one came out of my pen so smoothly, I think there must be an old man missing his Lucky Charm, under the Rhodies.
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A most lovely and moving story Pam. ❤
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Many thanks, my friend. ❤
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xx
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Rhodies in the gloam
At a house up a road
Grow from hero bones
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Ohhh, I like this. Thanks, John.
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Thanks roughian. It’s actually one of my poems on my page I tweaked for you. I’m new in the neighborhood, would you mind following me?
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I found your blog and liked and commented on your poem. Can’t find a way to follow you, though.
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I have also had trouble finding other people’s follow button some times. I will try to find mine and let you know, I’d really appreciate the follow.
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Sweet, sweet story. And well done.
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So glad you enjoyed. THANKS.
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This was a beautiful story! I so miss my dog that passed not long ago. You have crafted a story that surely touches the heart!
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THANK you, Linda. Believe me, this story came from my heart, always missing my dogs long gone, as well as my granddog, who passed half a year ago. They never leave us in beautiful ways. ❤
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Aww. That was a nice story. When the old man said that he is soon. Hurt a bit.
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I know, I felt the same way. But he’s a realist.
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You always trick me into thinking something else, Pam, and then I’m surprised at the end – great story!
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Thanks Barbara. As you know, writers are tricksters. 🙂
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You’re so good at that! 🙂
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I’ll take that as a compliment. 🙂 🙂 :-
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It is!!! 😊
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🙂
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Nice one.Story lines were awesome.
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Thanks so much. Fun story to write.
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Nice story
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Thanks Dana. So glad you enjoyed!
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Another of your most excellent tales Pam. and those bones in the picture had me worried for a moment LOL…. Wondering what was Un-earthed from that beautiful imagination of yours..
Sending love and hugs from the UK.. x x ❤
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Ohhh, I like thinking that my imagination is beautiful. Thank you, Sue. I’m patting my imagination on the back. 🙂 xo
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And so you should Pam.. ❤
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