Because of circumstances beyond my control, I'm unable to write a witty, entertaining, award-winning post for today. Instead, I present the following excerpt from one of my incredibly hilarious, previously published columns. To read the entire column, just click the link at the end of the post. Have a great Memorial Day weekend!
As a struggling freelance writer, I'm always looking for ways to turn everyday experiences into amusing “slice-of-life” columns, and lately, a large slice of my life--in fact, the whole darn pie of my life--has been consumed by a puppy named Molly.
Molly is a miniature dachshund, the second such dog my family has endured. Our first one, Odie (1981-1995), was the world’s fattest barking mammal. In fact, during his long, successful tenure as our top dog, Odie became so large that we removed the word “miniature” from his job description and replaced it with “disgustingly obese.”
Through the first three weeks of my relationship with Molly, I recorded several thoughts, feelings, and observations in my journal. I hope these will serve as a warning to anybody who’s about to fall prey to a miniature dachshund puppy.
To read the rest of this column ("Good Golly, Miss Molly"), click here: http://markmayfield.homestead.com/files/ZTBR.htm
HE HAS STRANGE POWERS
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