“P, I’m pulling out but that dog is in front of me. He’s just standing in front of my truck looking at me and I’m afraid I’m going to have to blow the big horn to get him to move.”

“Oh no, that’ll scare the hell out of him.”

“I know it but he’s not moving. I don’t know why someone would get rid of a dog like that… I hope he’s not some trucker’s dog who got dumped. I hope he belongs to someone around here.”

“I am sure he is a trucker’s dog that got dumped. That’s why he’s staring at you. He’s trying to get on a truck.”

“I fed him. I gave him a half a chicken and a stuffed pepper.”

“I bet he liked that.”

“He did but now he loves me. Dang it, P.”

“I know.”

“Okay, now he’s moving.”

“I didn’t hear the horn.”

“No, I just revved engine a little and he moved.”

I sighed and then he sighed and then he pulled out.

A few minutes later I called back to find out where this dog was in case someone reading wanted to rescue him but the soldier does not want anyone calling the pound on him, ‘They’ll put him to sleep,’ he said. “He’s got another pal there now and he’s young and strong and friendly. I am sure other people feed him and he’ll get picked up. If he were an old dog like, Cluck but he’s not. He’s a young dog… he’s a snow dog and someone will take him eventually because he’s a really good dog…”