Gone to the Dog


It was a nice day, neither to hot nor too cold, so I decided to go out and sit at our picnic table and read from my bible. Three of the five dogs followed me outside.

They were excitedly racing around me much like Indian’s would circle a group of wagons in an old black and white movie. One of them caught the heel of my right foot and it hooked the back of my left foot.

As I fell forward, I let go of my bible. I hit the ground and rolled trying not to screw up my back any more than it already is.

The bible landed in one of the five-gallon water buckets we have set up for the doors when they’re locked outside and sank to the bottom of the bucket. When I retrieved it, the entire book was soaked.

This isn’t the first bible I’ve had that’s been destroyed by one of the dogs. In the last couple of years three of my bibles have been chewed up by one of the dogs and it’s doubtful it will be the last.

I’m still shaking my head.

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