dog’s life

The dog lived dangerously all weekend.

She barked at every shadow and breeze and chased every round thing to the ends of her leash and back again.  She chose to pee in front of the WARNING signs near the railroad tracks, so close that we both swayed with the rush of wild hot air from passing trains, and she practically pooped in the road, making me straddle the curb to clean up after her while drivers honked and swerved.

So it was no surprise to me when, on Sunday evening, the dog collapsed in a fuzzy heap on her dog bed – dog tired, as it were.


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