Have you ever been embarrassed by yer good dog?
This item is available in full to subscribers.
To continue reading, you will need to either log in to your subscriber account, or purchase a new subscription.
If you are a current print subscriber, you can set up a free website account and connect your subscription to it by clicking here.
If you are a digital subscriber with an active, online-only subscription then you already have an account here. Just reset your password if you've not yet logged in to your account on this new site.
Otherwise, click here to view your options for subscribing.
Please log in to continue |
Have you ever been embarrassed by yer good dog? Me either! I’ve got a good dog. An Australian shepherd with one blue eye and I believe he loves me. I believe I love him. He’ll go with me anywhere. When I say, “You wanna go?” He don’t ask, “Where you goin’? Goin’ to the game store?” No, he don’t care, he just wants to go. And did you ever notice that it don’t matter whether you been gone five minutes or five days, yer dog is so glad to see ya. Can you think of a single human being that is that glad to see ya. Yer fixin’ to leave, walk out to the pickup and forget somethin’ so you run back inside. Yer dog licks yer hand. Your spouse says, “I thought you left!”
I’ve got a neighbor. A good neighbor. And when you live on the outskirts, a good neighbor is someone who lives just the right distance away. Close enough to circle the wagons but far enough away to allow that privacy people like us seem to value, (“I believe those are Kansas plates, mother,” he said sighting through his binoculars).
Anyway, she gets home ‘bout a quarter after five every day. Goes through the house and comes out the back door wearin’ her coveralls. In her backyard she has a long line of rabbit hutches and she spends, what is to me, an inordinate amount of time messin’ with them rabbits...talkin’ to ‘em...singin’ ‘em little rabbit songs.
Now I’m sittin’ out on the back porch one afternoon in my porch swing. It’s about 2:30. I’m done workin’. I’ve already thought up somethin’. I look out in the driveway and there’s my good dog and he has got a...and you know how you can tell it ain’t a jackrabbit? They aren’t black and white, they don’t have them big floppy ears, and he has got this rabbit between his teeth and he’s thrashin’ him like a shark with a ham hock! There’s dirt and leaves and brush and gravel flyin’ all over. I jumped up and grabbed that rabbit! “Go git in the pickup you *#@^...!” That rabbit looked bad. Looked like he caught on fire and somebody put him out with the weedeater!