Today, Ella left me.
Me and Ella met when we were six months old, and it was love at first sight. We were inseparable, running wild on the farm, poking our curious noses in rabbit holes, wading in the creek, and devouring treats stolen from Mama’s kitchen in the shade of the gnarliest tree in the back forty. For eighteen years, Ella’s been my staunchest ally, fiercest protector, and most trusted confidante.
“I’ll always love you, Ella,” I weep as my father and I pile rocks on top of a dog-sized grave under the gnarliest tree in the back forty.