Some of you may remember that my dog Rocky was banished do Camp Cowboy following an ugly incident last November.
I don't care to relive that difficult episode, so if you want to know more, you'll have to refer to my archives. In the meantime, Rocky is alive and well, living the good life down on the farm. In some ways, I think he's happier there, although he still heads straight for the door of my truck every time I pull up, wagging his tail as if to say: "I'm ready to come home now."
He'll actually be coming to stay with us for a week or so soon, and part of me hopes that the return will be permanent. This week though, he and I are getting the opportunity to hang out together while I tend to the horses.

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