Where it Went

By Tom Reed

I will never get used to it. The suddenness of it. In humans, it is difficult enough. Wake up one morning and you’re having to use 1.5x readers for the newspaper. The tromp through the cattails seems to go a little slower, the truck’s warmth a little more welcome. The fire for another push needs more stoking. It’s more of an erosion, a slow spin.

But in canines, the slap of years is stunning. One day you look down at her and she’s an old lady, her joints swollen by arthritis, various bumps and warts in her hide, a once-stunning feathered tail now something a rat might sport. She totters where once she used to float. She huffs and

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Buy and Sell Hunting Dogs

Buy and Sell Hunting Dogs