Snow Dog

Grandpa and Gran carefully drove down the winding Colorado mountain road. It was well below freezing, but the heater in the truck cab worked like a champ, and the two were bundled up snug as bugs after snowmobiling from their little vacation cabin to the truck. Their cabin was isolated from the road in the winter and they liked it that way. Grandpa could see Old Baldy mountain in the distance, beckoning him to the road home to Albuquerque. He shifted gears.

“Would you look at that, Jim? It’s a dog! Stop, Jim, stop the truck!”

“Out here? In this cold?” but Grandpa slowed the old truck and trailer down and looked in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, there in the deep snow to the side, he could see a black nose and two dark eyes looking right back at them. His white fur blended in with the snow, but the struggling puppy was clearly visible if you were looking. Grandpa got out of the cab and made his way in the slippery snow over to the pup.

The Bark

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