Wednesday, August 28, 2019

Ode to Lonzo



A true story about the dog my father had
when he was a boy. Also a flat fable:


LONZO
Everyone knew that chasing cars would be the end of that bulldog, but he never learned. He would hear the motor and the rubber tread and run at the street until he hit that passing blur, catching as much as he could in his teeth. Finally it happened, bit to a whitewall, taken round whirling three or four times until the car stopped and he was flat enough to fold.

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