Two Lonely Dogs

Two lonely dogs sat by the entrance to the cemetery. Whether they were guarding it or there waiting for the return of their deceased masters, I don’t know. But they helped make the ambiance a lot more tolerable.

Two lonely dogs guard the gate to the cemetery in my ancestral town in northern Mexico. They look sad. I doubt that they see much happiness in their line of work. Their lives have been probably all about seeing us humans walk around with heavy hearts and tear-drenched eyes as we say goodbye to the people that matter in our lives.

One of the dogs stood up and came over to be petted, almost as if he was doing his own version of counseling, saying, “It’s okay, boss. We know. We know.” I patted him on the head. I wondered if he knew why I was there, why I felt so sad. Seven of my family members laid quietly in eternal rest at the family plot.

The hot air of the desert makes tears dry up quick, very quick. The lonely dogs sit under a tree after coming over to check and make sure I was okay. The tree shade saves them from the heat, their panting only minimal. They look at me and I look at them. I nod at them and smile.

Good dogs.

Good Dogs

Good Dogs


  1. Dogs, without friends or pack are naturally lonely.
    Eventually, they’ll go insane, due to lack of stimulus.
    Then, they’ll be destroyed.


  2. Alain Toussaint August 14, 2014 at 01:13

    My sympathies, for both you and the dogs.



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