In the front yard at 9:30 a.m., I was barefoot playing fetch with my dog Merlin. The milk hauler was loading milk from our farm.
I was only seven

I watched Merlin joyfully run to get the ball. While Bringing it back, he stopped to watch the milk hauler go to the last stop before coming back down our road.
I was only seven

I watched as Merlin ran after the milk truck, softly I said, “We will continue our game of fetch when he comes back,” like so many times before.
I was only seven

I found myself screaming for Merlin to get back to the yard, he stopped, looked at me, then continued to run. He had done this before. The next thing I knew, I was down on my knees, tears escaping me like a broken levee, screaming Merlin’s name as he lay in the middle of the road motionless, lifeless. That was the last time Merlin and I played fetch.

I look back to when I was only seven

In Loving memory of my best friend,
Merlin