On this warm and brilliant Indian Summer afternoon, along the woodsy path where our old dog Jack often walked with me, we buried his ashes near the base of an old black walnut tree.
Jack loved that path where winds were gentled by the trees around us, and we could watch the people passing by on the road below.
He lies where the ground is warmed on clear-sky days by dappled sunlight.
Rest in peace, old Jack. You were a very good dog.
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