One Nation, Under God
I have a picture on my phone of Ace and a sharptail grouse I shot early this season. It was, I feared, the old dog’s last hunt.
A couple of months shy of his 13th birthday, Ace is about done.
Or so I thought.
But I just took another photo of him with a bird last week, and I suspect it won’t be the last either.
Like Joe Biden, Ace doesn’t know when to quit.
He can’t hear. He stumbles. It’s often hard to tell if he’s dead or simply asleep.
Barb and I have even been talking about getting a puppy when he’s gone.
Ace, however, isn’t going anywhere except along. He still hates to be left behind, how...
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