Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Hope in a Pig's Ear.

All too often, my husband is tending to the colourful growth of his garden when he notices a strange bit of expired flesh poking through the earth. It looks like and once was the ear of a pig. Though it is surprising it is nonetheless expected. Our dog believes in multiplying his wealth by burying all potentially great snacks in the garden. So far it has not resulted in a fine supply of bacon and roastable pork, but with his love, care and confidence, who are we to discourage him.
We continue to tend to the mundane and exciting chores of the home with all due care and abandon, always hoping for signs of refreshment and promise, but renaining content with reality.
Our dog, Dougal, continues to follow his lines of possibility with care and diligence. I hope his system of dreaming extends to the roast meal he longs for, and that science will not push her dreaded bars upon him.

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