The following is a true story:
About five years ago, we had neighbors living on our south side. The mister of the family was a truck driver, and one day he found a strange dog at the rest stop and brought him home.
They told me, “Don’t let your children go near our dog, he bites.” The dog was red, fierce, and usually bristling or barking. They kept him in a pen in the back yard.
One day, I saw him playing in his pen. He was pouncing with his front paws on a squeaky toy about the size of a man’s shoe, and having the time of his life. He’d bite the toy, and it would squeak, then he would toss it in the air, and continue playing. I stared at him for a while.
Then, he threw the squeaky toy high in the air, it hit the ground…and ran. It ran squeaking. He pounced again, and started biting. It was a rat. A half-dead rat. Very shocking!
So, you tell, me, what would be a good moral of this story?
What is the strangest thing you’ve seen a pet play with?
