Monday, June 22, 2009

I'm sorry I cut off your leg.

I didn't see you at first. I felt terrible once I did. You were just lying there, helplessly breathing and bleeding. I ran inside, got some water to wash off the blood and said a quick apologetic prayer. You lay there. I continued with my task. I came back to look for you. You were gone. For a year, I would see you hobble about in the garden. You were such a trooper. I saw your skeleton on a rock when the snows of winter melted.

Months later I still think of you when I mow the lawn.

I'm so sorry, my sweet garden toad.

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