I nodded toward the dog.
“Does he belong to someone?”
Edwin glanced over.
He shrugged.
The dog had been showing up for a while, he said, but nobody seemed to know where he came from.
“Nobody feeds him?”
“Not that I know of.”
“He doesn’t stay here?”
Edwin shook his head.
That answer only made me more curious.
I started watching the dog whenever I visited.
He always seemed calm.
But every so often, he would stare toward the cemetery entrance as if he were waiting for someone.
Then, before I left, he would disappear.
I never saw where he went.
One Sunday, I walked back to my car and stopped beside the driver’s door without opening it.
I looked toward the cemetery.
The dog was still there.
For reasons I couldn’t explain, that image stayed with me all week.
Then came the Sunday when I finally decided to find out where he went.
