the black wing olive chronicles
tossed out the ball, but this time I sort of acted like I did not see him do it or hear him say, “Fetch!” Fortunately, a little old woman had ventured forth from the throng of onlookers to tap Daddy Boy on the shoulder. As he turned to her, she said, “Sir, are you aware that the falls are no more than 100 feet from where you are sending that poor dog out into the creek?” I swear, I thought Daddy Boy, at that moment, had the look of passing that peach pit.
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