Well, At Least The Dog's Alive

There is an old man and his dog who walk passed our house almost everyday. Both of them are on the aged side, so it's more of a shuffle than a walk. During this recent cold snap of -40 temperatures, I only saw the man out twice and both times, he was without his dog. I questioned out loud whether the poor old dog had finally died. I also asked Mike to keep an eye out and let me know if he sees the dog out walking again (once this nasty weather had ended).

This afternoon as I was reading in the living room, I could just see the top of the man's head as he walked passed the house (our couch was blocking the rest of my view). Since today was practically a heat wave (only -12!!), I crossed my fingers that I would see the dog as well. When I stood up, there, sight of sights, was the little black mutt. And I actually pumped my fist into the air. That's how much of an animal-dork I am.

And then the dog stopped and shit on the corner of our lawn and the man didn't pick it up. So I walked outside and promptly beat the dog to death.