Calling Elvis: Photo Friday

Seeing dogs in the back of pickup trucks, I feel two distinct emotions.

Happiness and fear.

• I happen to love trucks and love people who take their dogs with them.
• Then the danger of a loose dog waiting or riding in a truck bed turns my stomach.

So I both love and hate seeing dogs in trucks.

I began this week with a little dog in Small Blog Nutmeg: Mutt Monday. Nutmeg maybe still looking for a home. I end this week with one little dog and two big dogs.

One warm day, I smiled as I spied this little white guy standing on tiptoes. He kept his eyes riveted on the post office doors. Never barked, only sniffed the breeze, a tongue-out grin broke on his face when his people came outside and called, “Hey, Coodle.” I felt so glad to see them pick him up and take him inside their truck cab.

On another afternoon, these two handsome German Shepherds eagerly waited in the warm sun. They were panting from the heat. I imagined in their heads they were singing the Dire Straits song, “Calling Elvis.” Meaning, “Dad come back soon.” When their owner returned with a bowl of water for them, I felt glad.

But then he and his friend jumped in and drove off as the poor dogs lost their footing. The dogs slid into the metal sides of the open truck bed. As the driver sped away, I watched these two healthy dogs bump and lurch into each other. I felt helpless as they struggled to keep from flying out.

Please fetch and share my post Dogs Die Falling Off Pickup Trucks.

Thank you for reading and have a great weekend,

Deborah Taylor-French