A short story by alum Dawn Abeita (fiction, ’96dawn abeita) appears at the Cortland Review:

The day before my mother died our dog, Oblivious, hid under her bed. She was under there an afternoon, a night, and a morning when my mother made it worse by lying on the floor and handfeeding it bits of leftover hamburger. “When she gets hungry, she’ll come out,” I said. Several times. My mother did not believe she should listen to a twelve-year-old, only vice versa.

“What’s gotten into her?” she asked. She was the one who named the dog.

I said, “Now she’s going to poop under the bed. You’ll have to move the bed to clean it up.”

“You don’t know everything,” my mom said. “Don’t you have homework?”

Continue reading online

%d bloggers like this: