The sun burned like a grapefruit over the mountain, and as it rose higher it lit the trees and rocks in the same color as the Wagon's tail lights had lit the trees and rocks the night before when Mom had almost backed into them.
Where there’s smoke…
More cowbell
Normally Mom makes me step off the trail and up-up onto a rock when we see someone coming, and then she turns her back to the trail and stuffs me full of kibbles until the people pass. But now, Mom pulled on the mask and the other people did the up-uping, as if by magic.
Breaking my promise to ol’ Smokey
Mom says that she lived in California for many years without ever smelling smoke in the Stuck House places. But for as long as I've been a man-dog there have been a few days or weeks every summer when the world disappears and everything smells like camping. Come to think of it, one of those... Continue Reading →