Yes, the happy Heeler is a spoiled Heeler.
A crisp December morning breaks over the land I call home.
Around 10:30am, Miss Smudge and I saddle up and ride to town (Yellville).
We’re on a singular mission, bound for Carolyn’s Razorback Ribs. Thursday’s special is grilled smoked sausage on a buttered-and-grilled roll, topped with brisket chili and shredded cheese, which (with a side of slaw) I bring back to the cabin.
Styrofoam may be fine for travel, but this is a knife-and-fork proposition. I transfer it to a proper plate.
It’s one of the best meals of my life.
My happy/spoiled Heeler gets her own treat — a grilled hamburger, prepared just for her. She’ll enjoy bits of that with her kibble for the next several meals.
Both man and dog lapse into a righteous food coma that lasts all afternoon.
Not long after sunset, Smudge and I walk outside and find the sky on fire.
The spectacle wraps around us, from southeast to northwest.
I take picture after picture, trying to preserve the moment. As dazzling as I know the images will be, I realize they won’t compare to what my eyes are seeing.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable