The slice
THE SLICE
She has been gone for at least 40 years.
But in my family, we still talk about Lady. “She was a good dog,” we take turns saying.
The other day, my dad recalled a time long ago when I was struggling with asthma. It was after a day of fishing near the Vermont/New York state line.
Heading back to the car, he put me on his shoulders. Then he and Lady cooked up a plan to take my mind off my labored breathing.
My dad would toss a stone into the brush and our short-legged, mixed-breed canine would charge after the sound as if it was an arrogant rabbit. They did this over and over. Apparently the performance cracked me up.
Lady knew, my dad said. She was trying to cheer me up.
Anyway, she got so worn out from all that racing around that when we finally got back to the car my dad had to lift her in.
She was a good dog.
What stories about your pet will people tell 40 years from now?
Paul Turner