Spirit of Stephen King

When we first looked at the property I noticed a sweet little (what I thought was a) paddock right next to the barn with honeysuckle vines growing on the fence. “What a cute little area,” I said excitedly to Mike. “Maybe we can fix it up and put some animals in there.” Turns out, the place is already inhabited. “Buster,” who cuts our hay fields (more on him later), has informed us that the area is the Smith’s old pet cemetery. “They buried all their animals in there,” Buster said. “In fact, when Mr. Smith’s wife Anita died, I think they spread her ashes in there, too.”

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