Frosty the Snowman: to you, a beloved symbol of childhood folklore. To me, dangerous criminal faced with a series of charges: engaging police in pursuit (here and there all around the square); possession of a deadly weapon (broomstick); first-degree larceny (old silk hat he “found”); and distribution of a controlled substance to minors. Let’s not kid ourselves. We all know what was in that corncob pipe.
(At least, from Texas to Maine.)
Daisy was in deep shit today—literally. We were getting the septic cleaned when she took a curious sniff and fell right in. Doug found her clinging for dear life and yanked her up by the scruff of her neck, saving her from a most abominable fate.
What naturally ensues is an addendum to the great philosophical debates: free will or determinism? Creationism or evolution? And now, Daisy: luckiest or unluckiest dog?