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Some of you may remember a couple of my earlier stories involving Fred and Ms. G.
Fred had wasted his life and his and his daughter's inheritance on drugs and loose women, had been disowned by the entire family (except his godmother, who still got Ms. G to look in on him once in so often), and was living in pitiful conditions.
His only comfort was his dog, Molly, and he did everything he could for Molly, making sure she ate even if he didn't -- he didn't even sell the window A/C from a neighbor or the space heater from Ms. G for drugs because he wanted Molly to be cool in summer and warm in winter.
Fred hadn't been seen on his porch for a couple of days, and the lady who always brought him leftover food from the fast food restaurant where she worked hadn't seen him, so the neighbor knocked and heard Molly barking, but there was no answer.
He climbed through a window and sure enough, Fred had died and poor Molly, looking as melancholy as a dog can look, was lying next to him and whimpering.
Fred hadn't been gone long, as Molly still had water in her bowl when Ms. G got over there to take her to Fred's estranged daughter, and sweet Molly, who loves everyone and especially children, is settling in and getting used to attention from the whole family now.
Linking up with Denise at Girlie On The Edge Blog, where she hosts Six Sentence Stories, and the cue is Melancholy.
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