I expected pain.

I can't really blame him. He hasn't moved for days since I died. He'll be hungry.

He was always part of me. Now it's the other way around.

The dog in the picture above is Ripley, my dog. My boy. This story, along with the first 'My Boy' story, is dedicated to him. He's yet to actually eat me, but I'm yet to actually die. As far as I know, anyway. If I had died... well... I'd expect it to be colder. And for bacon to not taste as good.