Pugmire adventuring party by Claudio Pozas

Rex dug Rusty’s grave, panting heavily through the night as he strained against the frozen ground with a shovel Spot had. “Most free dogs own a shovel,” Pan whispered to Yosha as Rex dug. “They have to bury their friends more often than we do.” When he finished, Spot gently put Rusty’s body in the hole, tears in his mismatched eyes. Picassa said a silent prayer as Rex filled the grave back in. Each dog was lost in their own thoughts as Boros and Sunny howled and wept until the sun rose.

Spot eventually broke the silence. “I don’t blame you,” he said. He knelt down and picked up Sunny in his arms, who buried his face into Spot’s shoulder. If Spot felt any discomfort from his injury by carrying the heavy puppy, he didn’t show it. “I blame that tower, and that cat, and this Man-damned winter,” he continued. “They killed my wife, not you.”


Yosha stood next to Spot, and raised her head up high. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her voice ...

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