My dog Domino died about 4 years ago this October.

Domino was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and by managing her diet, giving her a chance to go on very short walks everyday  and making sure she had lots of attention from me and her cat brothers ( who never left her side ) she had low if next to no stress in her day to day life. Domino had a few symptoms show up from day to day and none of the others that you would normally see in a dog suffering from this disease so I consider us lucky.

I won’t fool you, for the last two years of her life I was devoted to Domino and her care and it was a lot of work but I didn’t care-Domino was spirited and smart, she hated to get her paws muddy and loved getting her nails clipped and when she was a puppy she fought off and got the better of a dog that outweighed her by over 40 pounds.

Domino was an exceptional creature- second to none, two or four legged.

Domino and her brothers- when she got ill they insisted on going on walks with us.


One thing bothers me though- it bothered me the night she died and it bothers me now.

I had come home from work and as usual we went on our little walk, we ate dinner and we settled down to watch some TV in our bedroom.

After a few minutes  started to cough and then she got up, turned around a few times in her bed, she got comfortable and she died.


Domino went on her own clock, I believe that.

She knew what she wanted ( her walk, her dinner with Mom and our evening of tv watching ) and after she had her regular day she let go.


Me and Domino were alone together on the night she died- I put her pink blanket on her but I didn’t cover her face.

She had been such a pretty dog that I couldn’t do that- and I thought that if there was little spark in there somewhere, I wanted her to see me and her cat brothers until she was really gone.

I don’t know what I wanted to give her in those final moments of her life- she sort of ninja moved her way out of the world- but I guess was what bothered me was that she knew she was going to die  and I didn’t- I thought it was going to be another evening at home with my girl.

But it wasn’t like any other day – she died at the foot of my bed.

And I never got to say goodbye.

Domino shortly before she died- last month she would have turned 18 years old.


Daily Post Prompt: None




Drop Dead Death

Photo A.M. Moscoso


Alone with the Reaper

hello Mr Death

I thought you’d be around one day

and spend some time with me

You visited my


my cat my cousin my friend

You  passed me by without a glance

like my crush back in the eighth grade


Tired of this dance we do,

of the songs we don’t sing, the walks we don’t take

Hello Mr Death

you’re of afraid of me

I think.


Bill Traylor

Daily Post Prompt: Knackered

A Waiting Grave



Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

Gerhard Richter Abstract Painting (849-2)Tired of being sorry

tired of feeling sorry

tired of always looking down.

Sorry is chaos.

Sorry is a set of sharp teeth

in the mouth of a vicious beast.

Sorry is where dreams go to die

where regrets are buried

in a dark forest choked by weeds.

Sorry is pain

Sorry is regret

Sorry is a waiting grave.

I Walk A Lonely Street

Daily Prompt

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.


Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Well, since my baby left me,
I found a new place to dwell.
It’s down at the end of lonely street
at Heartbreak Hotel.

Photo A.M. Mocoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

And although it’s always crowded,
you still can find some room.
Where broken hearted lovers
do cry away their gloom.

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Hey now, if your baby leaves you,
and you got a tale to tell.
Just take a walk down lonely street
to Heartbreak Hotel.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Well, the Bell hop’s tears keep flowin’,
and the desk clerk’s dressed in black.
Well they been so long on lonely street
They ain’t ever gonna look back.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

You make me so lonely baby,
I get so lonely,
I get so lonely I could die.

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Photos By A.M Moscoso

Lyrics ” Heartbreak Hotel” By


The One Who Causes To Live



Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

After you heart stops, after the lights go off in your brain and your face turns into an expressionless mask, I read an article  that says that your some of your Genes switch on two days following your death.

The idea is fantastic, after everything that made you who you WERE is gone hundreds of your genes look around and say “OK , let’s get to work.”

Wouldn’t it be something if it worked on a grand scale , if your DNA grew another person from your remains.

Maybe we’d get wrapped up like mummies and after 70 days ( which is how long it took to prep a body for mummification ) there was an opening of the mouth ceremony and the bandages came off and there … would it be you? Another you? Would your DNA just pull together information from your history and  see what it got after repairing the damaged you?


Or maybe the way it work is that the person you could have been could have a chance to exist now, deprived of that chance because when the genetic dice got rolled the first time it lost.

Maybe that person is in our blood, our bones, our DNA and after we’ve gone it tries one last time to live.

What an idea.

What  story that would be.


One Small Breath


Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.


“Do you remember, what it was like when we were faraway from here?” His voice echoed through the tomb.

” Do you remember the warm yellow Sun and the cool green grass and the smell of wet dogs and the taste of something that didn’t have enough salt in ? Do you remember what that was like faraway from here?”

Nobody answered.

 ” I remember the cold white moon and the blood rushing in my ears when I ran to fast and to hard and I remember the sound of my children crying when we found their Mother hanging from the tree in our backyard. Do you remember pain and how it felt when we were Faraway from here?”


” I used to laugh and I used to sing. I couldn’t sing a note but I did it anyway and when people would wince and look at me and the sounds coming up from my throat and out of my mouth, I couldn’t help it. I would laugh until my eyes watered and then blurred. I used to know how to have fun when I was Faraway from here.”


” I think I’m forgetting things now, bit by bit all of those things are leaving me and going Faraway. I think one day I will close my eyes and truly sleep. I will truly be dead.

I will be so faraway.

I wonder where Faraway is.”

The voice faded away, note for note.

When it was gone a chorus of weeping  moved through the shadows for a moment.

For one small  breath.