Fishie’s in the cold, hard ground

Some time late this afternoon, Bob stopped twitching, his body turned pale, and his eyes became dull and staring.

We had a brief funeral service, tears were shed, and we buried him in the backyard.  (Yes, we do have 8 inches of snow back there — but we found a spot that wasn’t snowy and Dean dug a good hole for him.  Then, as a final tribute, Dean and Mabel spelled out the word “Bob” in 12-foot letters in the snow.)

Custom coffin, made by Isaac and decorated by Mabel

Tombstone

Explore posts in the same categories: Creative miscellany, Meanwhile in the real world, My kids actually are funny (and sweet and wonderful)