Buck's Pyre

So, what did I miss on the Doom thread comments? By the time I got up it was already squooshed so I came directly here. Doomy post, tho!

Drought-plagued months of piled-up brush finally got torched yesterday, on the one mild, sunny day between last week's ice storm and today's rain. Rather than carve a hole in the semi-frozen sod, as we have for so many dear old pets, instead, we placed old Buck in his fruit-box coffin on top of the oak, pine, and Christmas trees. We watched as flames reached his box, then, while we were distracted stamping out some burning grass, the box vanished. My mind says hot fire did the job. My heart says angels took him while we were distracted.

Smoldering ashheap.
Smoke rises through falling cold drizzle.
Part of our heart departed.