Man’s Sorta Best Friend


Yesterday the Singing Farmer and I went to round one of the Boys Region 8 basketball tournament. Against all odds, the team from Ray had made it to this level and we were there to offer our support. A lot of others were doing the same. The Ray and Tioga sections were a mass of those lime green Pray for Ray t-shirts. The team from Stanley did their warm-up wearing them. Fans from other teams were wearing them as well. The Williston State College men’s team all donned the lime green and stood in the bleachers behind one of the baskets, hollering for the little team that was three men down. Hell, there were even Parshall fans wearing green and that’s who Ray was playing. But as we all feared, Ray was no match for number one seed Parshall. It was a valiant effort and I applaud those kids for making it this far.

When I got home, Sansa and Arya came rushing into the laundry room. They were chirping and purring, excited that Dad was home. And where was my dick of a dog? Sitting in the living room, offering up the occasional bark but nothing more. I know he came from a bad situation and as dogs go, he’s not exactly a rocket scientist. So he sat in the living room with Carjo, unaware of his societal duties and barking only because his barely functioning brain told him something strange was going on. Once I sat down on the couch he got up in his usual place to demand a little attention but he does that every night. Sansa and Arya did their superiority dances. I reassured Pippin that it’s alright. He’s the best dog he can be and that’s enough.

Pray for Ray

About jeroljohnson

I guess I'm the crying on the inside kind of clown
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