“I think it’s tacky,” Liz said. “Can you imagine?”
“Well, you know how much Aunt Martha loved her dog,” Marion said. “After Oreo died, Martha took him to a taxidermist and had him stuffed and mounted.”
“Yeah, I thought that was really fucked up,” Liz said. “What kind of sicko stuffs her dead dog and displays it by the fireplace?”
“Aunt Martha had her quirks,” admitted Marion.
“This goes way beyond being quirky,” Liz said. “She actually had instructions in her will for them to take that horrid stuffed dog wired for electricity, coated in porcelain, painted, and set in front of her gravestone.”
“It even lights up at night with that broken lantern hanging from its mouth,” Marion said. “It is a bit bizarre.”
“And with the eyes that glow in the dark,” Liz added, “it looks like some weird werewolf, except it’s a dog.”
“I know,” said Marion. “But she put this in her will and as executor, it was my responsibility to carry out her last wishes.”
“It’s so tacky and it’s embarrassing,” Liz said. “I’d steal it and take it to the dump if I didn’t feel it would be like desecrating Aunt Matha’s gravesite.”
“Hmm,” Marion said. “I may know a guy who knows a guy….”
Written for today’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Photo credit: Susan Spaulding.