Dog-School GraduationMarta Ferguson
After flyball and agility demos, after the rain started stacatto against the tin roof of the warehouse where we met for class, after eight weeks in which we came to heel, about turn, sit, lay down, stay, come, and come-for, after all the work Daisy and I deserved the victory lap we took with our diploma, mugging and waving like we were on parade, streaking ahead of Gypsy, Jazz, Comet, Augie, Toby, Cthulu, Boomer, Onie, Cisco, and their handlers whose names I never needed to know.
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