The Hazzards Of A Dog's Life

John has been sorting, organizing and tossing miscellaneous contents of old boxes from the garage. Last Sunday, when I returned from church, I found a chewed box of staples! There was ample evidence that some of its contents had been ingested. Bingley was the prime suspect. He is also the dog with the really sensitive tummy. But he ate and pooped, so we were cautiously optimistic. On Monday morning, we awoke to the sounds of Bingley choking and vomiting. (A fabulous way to begin a new week, I must say.) Sure enough, there was a lump of half digested food with a bunch of acid-etched staples sticking out from all angles. Neither John nor I can remember seeing that box of staples before discovering it after Bingley did. We're breathing a deep sigh of relief that our boy escaped a really bad episode.

Today I had occasion to spend some time in a crowded parking lot waiting for a group of students to depart on a trip abroad. Cars were coming and going, dropping off people and luggage. An enormous coach bus threaded its way between people and cars. And. There was a woman walking around the parking lot with her Boston Terrier off leash!! I really wanted to say something to her. But I was lost for words.