Andrews Last Ride

Been the better part of sixty years back that we loaded the sick old dog Andrew in the basket of my silver painted pre-WW2 bicycle.

Andrew and I rode down U.S. Route Five through the village where we crossed over onto U.S. Route Twenty West to the Vet's office. I had to push the bicycle up the very steep and long Route Twenty hill and then we rode another mile or so old Andrew and me.

Soon the Vet had finished his job. We loaded Andrew back into the bicycle basket and rode on home. We flew like the wind down the Route Twenty hill old Andrew and me did.

Back up on Route Five I buried poor Andrew with the rest of our pets near the edge of the cliff overlooking Lake Erie.

I do not remember crying then. Perhaps I saved the tears for today. Maybe.

voyager