Oreo’s Place

Oreo rests here now, in the garden. Three days ago, on her last walkabout, this is where she came.

I built her a box of pine, recycled from my old guitar bench. I wrapped her in one of my old Grateful Dead t-shirts, then a heavier turtleneck of mine, then covered her with old, faded prayer flags that had flown over the garden. I covered the spot in fresh cedar boughs.

Hard days, that’s for sure. Rest easy, Orie.