Killing the one I love(ed)

It was a sunny day from what I could recall, Mary was my wife, she was a beautiful wolf with a gorgeous smile and she could make anyone around her smile. She would head out and ask me what I needed from the store every morning, every damn morning she'd be gone and come back with one bag of oranges and not even what I had asked for. She would be gone for half the day.

So we were married on a lovely Sunday evening, she was the daughter or a preacher and very beautiful along with prestigious, Her father was strict and didn't allow us to even touch paws until we married. We met through a.. you'd be surprised but I met the love of my life through a store. She was looking for odd products as I walked past the aisle, she looked at me and I froze, my heart had stopped beating for a second. She began to flutter her eyes at me, we locked eyes, she smiled and looked away.

My heart was pounding, it felt as if butterflies were going to rip through the walls of my gut, she was actually looking at me. Boy Oh boy I thought as I walked over to her for the first time, she looked up at me through those long, thick lashes. I was quite tall for a Wolf, and I guess that's what she liked about me. She was pure white and wore a Polk-a-dot dress with little blue dots and she had platinum hair with one ribbon. Gosh, She was gorgeous.

I tipped my fedora at her and started by introducing myself, I said, hello, I'm Armstrong, my surname is Sallow. She introduced herself as Mary Miracle, and boy, she was a miracle. So she gave me her number and from then on we were dating, she took me to church on Sunday but my problem was that I was very deist. She was deeply religious, I loved her and that didn't get in the way of anything. She told me how much she loved my gray fur, I complimented her hair and her cheeks turned red as blood. She was chuckly, often giggling at things that weren't even funny.

There was one song I love it, from nineteen-eleven, It would go like: Oh you beautiful doll, you great big beautiful doll and I loved it, so every night we'd go to a bridge, balcony or--somewhere.. and I'd sing that song to her and eventually she learnt it and we'd sing together. Whenever I'd complain she'd playfully slap my chest and say 'be a man' in that thick, Southern drawl. So we married after a year of being together, she hadn't changed from the day I met her but she told me that I was acting different.

But we were young when we met, I was approaching my thirties by now, as was she--she was just a little bit younger than I was. But she was getting tired of me, I no longer received that friendly slap on the chest and yeah... I wish I could have it again because it told me she loved me. And I was a bit lonely, often sleeping on the couch with my hat over my face. So she came back in one day and asked what I needed from the store, and she would be gone all evening and she would go in the morning until once she was missing for a month.

I was planning on filing for a divorce at that point, but it wasn't the best thing to do. I grabbed my ring and planned to renew vows with her, until she walked in with another man. I usually slept with a gun under my pillow, she thought I was asleep and so she rushed him to the bedroom. SO a few minutes later I walked in, shot em' both and didn't have an ounce of regret. And now I am proud to say that I am approaching my eighties and am happily married with two children.

I don't regret being with her.

~Armstrong Sallow

1910-1992