Tom Swift Writer’s Notebook

The Savage Beast is usually the smallest pooch at the park and he is always the fastest. Last night we let him run with the big dogs — an option that would be puppy abuse if not for his wheels. I brought reading material along but I didn’t get through much of it. As soon as the Beast shot through the gate the party started and had there been music it would have been disco. Suddenly a half dozen dogs — all of them more than twice the Beast’s size, including one that had a tale as large as his body — were chasing him as though he was made of peanut butter. But he zigged as they zagged. He moved short right and then — whoop! — he was way left. Seemingly pinned in a corner, he simply reversed directions as though he had his own escape hatch. His first name is Barry and, hey, someone give that guy a football and see if his last name might not be Sanders.

This post was added on Monday, July 21, 2008 by Tom Swift at 15:24 and is filed under Dog Days.