Dog and I were walking in the high-rent cemetery yesterday — it’s one of our favorite (pardon the expression) haunts — when we came across a human body sprawled prone on the ground in front of one of the headstones. This is it, I thought. After ten years of fruitless dog walks during which I’ve never found a body (at least, not a whole one), here was my moment in the sun. At last, when the newspaper stated, “The body was found by a woman walking her dog,” I would be that woman.

Fortunately, my involuntary “Oh, my god! Are you okay?” had the effect of rousing the supine person. No dead body to see here, folks. False alarm. After ascertaining that she was not in need of assistance, I apologized for disturbing her and we continued on our way.

She could have been sleeping off a high, but I don’t think so. As familiar as I am with that cemetery, I “know” that grave. It was erected fairly recently, and since it’s the only headstone in that section of the cemetery that was put up in the past hundred years, it stands out. Judging from the age of the deceased and the age of the young woman, I’m assuming that she was “visiting” her mom. How lovely and how sad. I’m glad she at least had good weather for her visit.