"My trees are old." I said out loud (but quietly) to no one in particular.
There was no one there to listen.
Sometimes the dead branches fall when the wind blows.
Sometimes they fall for no reason at all.
They're very thick my trees - fifteen feet across - at least.

I noticed all this again while I was digging the grave.
The shovel made a crunch-pop sound in the wet clay soil.
The mud stuck to the shovel and made it heavy.
The gray sky suited my mood.
I got mad again.
Then I went and got the post hole digger because it would be faster.

I had a sad thought about how many times I'd done this already.
Hobbes. Sophie. Mary Kate. I thought of Serena again.

My hands balled up in involuntary fists around the handle of the post hole digger -
it was hard to hold in the thick black gloves.

Serena had torn out my heart again.
Her name was a lie.
She had never been serene, not as long as I had known her.
This was the last time I swore to myself and did nothing about it.

I dug down as deep as my soul could stand to be doing it.
Not very deep. I have been tested too much lately.

Then I lowered them in gently. Stiff.
Eyes open which made me sad.
I laid them together holding one another.
They'd done that so many times.
I tried not to be sick and got mad at myself.

I thanked God that I had brought the wheelbarrow out that we used for the horses' hay.
The soft alfalfa cushioned the impact of the heavy wet mud.
I was glad for that.
I didn't want to add another indignity to death.
And I did it to hide their eyes.

Just for a second though, I looked again into her green eyes.
I found some peace there.
As if one more time she came to check on why I was crying.
She had seen me cry a lot lately.

I didn't want to pack down the dirt.
I didn't want to think of them together underneath it.
Finally, I finished.

Mary Ann came up to check on me.
Her soft, quiet presence helped.

I had one more terrible thing to do.
I walked over and untied the dogs from where I'd left them.
I wasn't mad at Gus, but Serena made me so angry I could feel myself shaking.
I wanted to beat her... make her hurt too... but I didn't.
She wouldn't understand anyway.
I thought of leaving her tied... I did... then I let her go too.
They didn't know why I was so angry, but both of them ran away from me.

It occurs to me that I've left Jessie's collar in the yard where I'd taken it off of her.
Jessie and Tigger. Mama and son. I Love You both.
I have to go get her collar.

I think again of how old my trees are when I throw a dead branch over the fence.