"Barky Shards" drabbles by Peter Muscutt
Barky Shards IV
Barky Shards
It was some days after the burial of the shattered dog at the beach.
My thoughts had moved on from the distraught man and his broken pet.
But it seemed his thoughts were still revolving around me.
The doorbell rang. I got up to attend to it.
A postman. A rarity around these parts, but still – a postman.
‘Package for you’ he said, brusquely, indicating a box at his feet.
Thanking him, I dragged the heavy parcel into the lounge.
Tears formed in my eyes. My own glass dog, with a thank you note from the man I’d helped.
Barky Shards III
Barky Shards
We arrived at the beach, the stranger and I. He got either over-emotional or bored carrying the bag containing his smashed dog and had given it to me about half-an-hour ago.
'Do you think you'll get another dog?' I asked the man.
'I don't think that would be very wise' he muttered. 'Not when I'd have to go through this again.'
Stopping at a secluded spot, I looked around and saw hundreds of other people, also burying the remains of their smashed glass dogs.
'I guess I'd feel the same way' I said, as he began burrowing.
Barky Shards II
Barky Shards
I helped the man sweep up the remnants of his shattered dog. He shook his head as I decanted it into the plastic carrier bag.
'I can put him in the recycling if you like' I said, delicately.
'He deserves a burial. The beach - he loved it there' the man said, tearfully. 'Come with me, I'm so terribly alone.'
His pleading eyes and iron grip on my wrist were irresistible.
'Of course' I replied, wishing I was dressed and not wearing a pink silk dressing gown. He nodded thanks.
Looking down, I noticed neither of us had any shoes on.
