Pine Mountain Cemetery VIII
                Tuck and Lige

There’s more than one secret resting
On this steep hill under stones or not.
Lige is buried just to the right, but

What you can’t see next to him lies
The best kin he swore he ever had. A
Kentucky Heeler, the village knew as Tuck.

For dogs, even good ones like Tuck, one
Finds a likely spot and that’s the end of it.
Not for Tuck. Never was that near enough.

Once saved Lige from a rattler in a battle
Scary enough to make a grown man run.
Dead snake, sick dog, long nights.

Another time he found a corn crib rat hole,
Smart enough to save the crop. Pigs
And Lige were grateful when snow flew.

Never a stranger crept onto the cabin,
Salesmen went round the other way, Tuck’s
Growl meant don’t think to mess with us.

More than snakes, rats and drummers
That dog was brother, child and mate.
He kept the house and man warm, safe.

Lige carried him up in dead of night, dug
Deep, wept, laid him in a soft leaf bed.
Kept silent, bought the lot so to rest right there.

Cemetery could and would see lot worse than
A friend that gifted every breath to a man
Who needed the love and care Tuck freely gave.