A Boy and His [Racist] Dog

It’s the last day of Mardi Gras break.  I am working on a self portrait for Sophomore Review.  I am a little bit stressed about that.  It’s a review by the art department to determine whether or not you are good enough to continue on to 300 level classes.  No one has failed in the last four years.  I really don’t want to be the record breaker.  I’m drawing a self portrait.  I kind of copied that scene from the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Ark.  The one from the first fifteen minutes where Indiana stole the idol and the rock almost killed him.  I shot a picture of myself replacing Oreos with a leather pouch.  I thought it would be clever while also capturing a likeness of my face.

I started another blog.  I mentioned in my last post that I’ve been writing a lot of short stories and flash fiction.  Well, I started a blog on Blogger to post a few of my stories.  I’m not quite confident enough to broadcast where that site is yet, maybe later.  If you find the blog, I hope you enjoy it.  So, far I’ve written a story about Barry the explorer, Porky Robinson, Ph.D. (urban pirate), one based on a dream I had in high school and a few based on actual recent events.  I’m finding it very enjoyable, therapeutic even.  Unfortunately, my grammar is still a problem, as you probably noticed.

I just got back from the gas station.  I had to get gas for both my truck and the lawn mower.  I decided to bring Sadie, my dog, with me.  She stays at home most of the time, and doesn’t go out very much.  I like to treat her to a trip every now and then.  She really seems to enjoy sticking her head out the window and experiencing all the smells.  There is a slight problem, though.  Sadie loves people, but she is also one of those racist dogs.  I was worried that, as soon as I opened my door, she would start exploring everything and everybody at the gas station, or that she would start barking at some innocent black person just trying to fill up his or her car with gas.

I have only witnessed one racist exploit of hers.  We were remodeling our house.  Sadie was young, maybe a year old.  Frank, the terminex guy, was spraying edge of the foundation with bug repellant.  I was in my room playing Mario Cart–best Nintendo game ever–when Sadie started barking.  I walked out to see what was the matter.  There was Frank just minding his own business, killing bugs.  There have have been a few other incidents that I wasn’t around for, but mom told me about them later.

Thankfully for me, she didn’t bark at anyone at the gas station.  Maybe, she is finally realized that she’s a black lab.


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