It’s not long for Ghost, I’m afraid. He’s getting more incontinent by the day and it’s clear he’s in pain. L is getting serious about euthanasia. So I had a talk with Neighbor D on Monday, asking if I could bum some help with his backhoe.
He came by through the wash and picked me up, and we rode to Boot Hill together.
Yes, we have an actual boot hill. Its name is “Boot Hill.”
So far there’s only one human in it. Barring some tragic accident or disease, it’s most likely that I’ll be the next one. A very long time from now.
What Boot Hill does have at present is quite a few pets. The first unburned body I buried here taught me the importance of grave depth – I ended up hauling some big rocks to discourage scavengers. With a backhoe there’s not much excuse for that. Ghost will rest undisturbed.
Nice and big and deep; I’ll bring my big tarp by to keep the erosion to a dull roar until L decides to do the deed.
On the way home, since he already had the tractor out of the barn, D took a pass at my driveway where it joins the wash. Driving it has been an adventure ever since that flood in July.