DOGS CROSS MY MIND OFTEN. I don’t know why exactly, but of the hundreds, maybe thousands, of dogs I’ve been around, a few continually haunt me. Maybe it’s the imperfect nature of dogs, guns, and old trucks which make them so damned perfect and give you something to continually think about.
Mostly though, I think it’s simply because we don’t get enough time with them here on Earth.
So, if it’s true all dogs go to Heaven, I’m in luck for the purposes of this article, because I’d like to think I’ll meet these dogs again. It’ll be out there on a prairie I’ve never seen before, hushed with the first snow of the season. I’ll be holding my father’s gun in my right hand, wondering just… exactly…how…I got here?…