By Slim Randles
Hi there, Pard. Yep, it’s me, Alphonse Wilson, the one they call Windy. But this ain’t pertickler a good day for ol’ Windy. Fact-a-matter is, if I was to study how to do that depression stuff? This’d be a good day to start.
Ya see, it’s what’s called an annual-versary of a sad time fer me, and I thought I might repercussion it to you today, so’s mebbe you won’t have to have your heart broke, neither.
It was the flat-out tail end of love, ya see. After all them months together, too. Hey, I allus figgered we’d be together for … well, life. Oh we had good times. Watchin’ stuff on the teevee, ridin’ ‘round in the pick-em-up truck. Visitin’ with friends. You know what I mean.
Ever’ year on this annual versary, I wonder if mebbe I weren’t supposed to be happy in a love sitiation, ya know? I mean, what if some folks jest ain’t got the right smile or somethin’ to keep her around.
I tried, howsomever. Really tried hard. Read up a book on it, even, you know, when she started to sull on me? What I’m s’posed to do to keep her lovin’ me. What things I can say to her to get her outta a sull like that.
But none a-that worked. Nothin’. It’s like she jest didn’t care no more, ya know? Ever had a happenstance like that there? Ain’t no pic-a-nic, I can lambastical guarantee ya.
And ever’ year on this here annual versary, I cain’t help but see that last goodbye all over again, ya might call it a finality farewell, but a-course you don’t hafta call it nothin’ if you don’t want. But I can recomember it all, from the look in her eyes until she rode off with that stranger, not even lookin’ back. Not even one single look back after all them months together.
I sure do miss that dog. And you can tell ‘em I said so.
If you agree with Windy, please consider volunteering your time at your local animal shelter.
