Her Dog

Joanna had lived across the street from a cemetery all her life. During her fifty-two years she had seen all kinds of funeral processions; but one misty morning, one passed by that really piqued her interest. Oh, there was the usual hearse, but, this time,there was a second hearse... both moving very slowly. A few feet behind the second hearse and walking slowly was a woman dressed all in black and wearing a veil, She had a Bible in her left hand, held to her heart. In the other hand was a leash, a black leash attached to a huge black dog. The dog seemed docile enough and was wearing a black bandana around his neck to befit the occasion. This all seemed a little strange; but, stranger still, the woman in black was followed by forty-five or fifty women, all in black and walking in single file.

Joanna was overcome with curiosity. She stepped out into the street and walked beside the woman with the dog. She quietly said, "I hate to interrupt your time of grief, but I've lived here over fifty years and have never seen a procession such as this." Without so much as turning her head to acknowledge Joanna's presence, the woman replied, "That first hearse carries my husband. He was killed by this dog." A tear came to Joanna's eye as she responded, "Oh, my. I am so sorry for your loss,.....but... what about the second hearse?" The lady paused a moment before speaking, then said, "Well....the second hearse carries his girlfriend. She thought she could help him and the dog killed her too." "Oh, dear. What a sad situation to endure, but then who are all these other mourners?" The woman turned and smiled and said, "Oh, they're not mourners. They want to borrow the dog."

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