Dried Mud and Dogs

“Damned dogs,” I shout as I continue sweeping, “Go away – go!”

Play is all they want to do as I try to clean up the dried mud falling from their paws. Yes, it’s been raining heavily, off and on, the last four days, but seeing this much mud throughout the living room and hallway’s maddening.

The more I try to shoo away the dogs, the more they think I’m playing. I’m not – I’m pissed, because every time I take another step, in another direction I find more dried mud.

“Crap!” I exclaim, realizing the mud’s coming from my tennis shoes.

 

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About Tom Darby

French-born, American-raised, U.S. citizen, husband, father, friend, veteran, and writer.
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2 Responses to Dried Mud and Dogs

  1. Pam says:

    I read your writing first now in the am when i wake up. Before anything else. I love that i don’t know what to expect next. I think you have a fabulous outlook and twist to even the usually mundane aspects of our lives.

    Like

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