The wind blew ever so gently over Miss Masie’s back yard. It rustled the trees and made a soft cooing sound. A larger rustle, and a small brown head emerged, looking one way and then another, a tongue hung out, dripping, panting. It was the neighbour’s dog. He moved forward stealthily, constantly looking from one direction to another. He paused. He raised his head and sniffed. The coast was clear. He looked toward the east and started off again. He passed the shrubbery now. He was headed towards the other side of the yard, where miss Masie’s garden was.
There were roses and carnations and pink pooies and carrots and tomatoes in abundance. Miss Masie loved all living things. She loved her garden. Everything was beautiful. The dog approached the garden slowly. He looked left and right. He sniffed a rose then a carnation. Then he saw a butterfly on the tomatoes. The butterfly flitted up when the dog approached it, and moved over to a Sunflower. The dog followed, and trampled Miss Masies young shoots under foot. But he didn’t notice. The butterfly opened its wings again, the dog wagged his tail and panted. He jumped up and landed on the carnations. He dug in the rich soil trying to find the butterfly, which was now behind him, uprooting many of Miss Masie’s flowers. The dog barked.
A loud scream came from the house. The dog stopped and looked up. The back screen door flew open. A large woman with silver hair came out quickly, with what looked like a long stick in her hand. Miss Masie had a gun. The dog started to run to the west, to make it to the hole in the fence that he had entered. Miss Masie brought the gun up to her shoulder. And fired. Time stopped. The back yard was shocked by the sound of the gun. Kaplow. The dog stopped in mid stride, and then fell down. Miss Masie stood still for a moment, and slowly lowered the gun, her forehead was knotted.
“Damn nuisance dawg.” Miss Masie muttered under her breath as she turned around and went back inside the house. “I tell dem Mackey people it was ga have ta come to dis.” The screen door slammed shut behind her.
The wind blew again, mourning. The dog lay on the ground, blood oozing from his side, still whining softly. The butterfly landed on his nose. He tried to wag his tail. Then he closed his eyes.