The Ceramony

We threw a dog on the fire, first. Dogs make for good kindling if good kindling means wet sticks and dirt. But we put the dog on anyways, burned it right their in the forest on a dry summer afternoon. Then we had a little bit of a ceremony.

We asked that the burning dog bring us certain things. It used to bring back the sticks we through into the forest, but it doesn’t do that anymore, but we were wanting something more profound then chewed up sticks. The dog doesn’t do much other then make smoke. Someone puts a tea pot on the fire and asks if anyone is thirsty. I take some chamomile because it helps me sleep at night.

I asked: burning dog, bring us sunlight so the grass will always grow. I asked: burning dog, fire so bright, please allow the moon to shine so we may see at night. I asked: burning dog, please make it so the wind blows, always. Please make it so the clouds in the sky stay ripe with water. The burning dog answered our wishes in its own burning way. Then the wind began to blow the dead dog smoke in my face and a child cried because his dog was burning in the fire but the clouds brought rain as the moon brought light, so we burned another dog the year following too.