And while walking through the village of Marken, in Holland, seeing all those beautiful green fields, small wooden houses I was drawn by a little house with fences. Some ducks roamed and a small white cross was planted on the grass.
It was a dog`s house, converted to duck coop. The cross marked the place where Dinky was once buried. My wife called me, already distant. I took the picture and walked toward her. I couldn’t stop but think of my other love, eight thousand kilometers away.
While hoping this day never comes as it came to Dinky, I hope that when it comes a small white cross will mark its place forever in a small dog house in my mind.
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