Home
Stories & Lit
Print|Text Size: ||
One Truth of Dogs

Late November the corn is in, stubs

litter the ground, frozen and thawed

a dozen times since Veteran’s Day.

Gopher mounds poke up then collapse

across the lawn. This morning I find

bear scat halfway down the drive,

coming or going I can’t say. While

I stand and think, Don Armstrong’s

truck bounces across the rows, belching

exhaust. Whatever is he doing?

Then I see his dog Evie at the wheel,

the windows cranked down, her ears

flapping in the wind. A crazed smile

pushes hips across her teeth. I stare

in disbelief until my dog bumps

against my legs and says, “You weren’t

ever suppose to see this.”

Print

More From The Bark

By
Jeffrey Essmann
By
Kay Elliott
 humor fletcher cicadas
By
Debbie Huntley