Pete wanted to go outside. In a thunderstorm. 

I had to explain that, to lightning, he would look like a little white cloud out in the yard, and that all those big gray clouds were once little white clouds that lightning struck and turned to burnt marshmallows, because that's what lightning likes to do - burn marshmallows and stuff. 

There are just so many things a little dog doesn't know.

          

At our house, if you get up at night to get a drink, or maybe to put another log on the fire, you will lose your place in bed.


  

It is positively swell to put a dog into a dog jacket.

If you have ever held your dog close, felt its warmth and softness on your face. This is how I think love would feel, if it could be touched.

Pete took his new five-dollar dog bone outside and trotted off toward the woods where the dirt is soft and easily dug.

"Pete!" I called after him. "Don't you bury that brand new dog bone." 

Pete turned around. 

"I wasn't going to," he said. 

"Okay," I replied, "Good."

Pete started back. Midway, he turned and bounced over to the truck. 

He crawled deep underneath. 

He dropped the five-dollar bone and backed out. 

"See," he said. 

And I did. 




         

Watching Pete is like watching a PeeWee baseball game.

It was definitely a black, black Friday. Three big dogs and only one can of dog feed on the worst possible day in the History of worst possible days to go shopping.