The old barn had had a series of break-ins back about 55 years ago. Me Grandpa Joe decided that a way to stop them might be to leave a dog in the place every night. He found a relatively imposing mutt for that purpose.
I don't recall much about the beast. It hung around the Shop all day, and Joe and the others who worked there at the time would play with the dog and so forth. Yet it was a reasonably menacing animal who seemed to be leery of and watchful of strangers, so it fit the bill.
One morning as me Pops and me Grandpa Joe arrived at work, they noticed a window broken in. Ha, ha, Joe thought, we'll see what a number the old dog made of those miscreants. That'll teach them to break into my place of business.
Opening the door and walking in, Dad and Joe saw the Shop was a wreck and found that a bunch of hand tools were gone. Over to the side and sleeping, fat and happy, was the guard dog, a thoroughly demolished plate of chili fries next to him. The dog burped as he slept.
"Sold out by chili fries," Joe remarked to me Pops.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment