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Poor dogs just needed a middle man

By Jack Hartley

I used to live north of I-70 on Gillespie Road, which was a favorite dump site. Not only did they dump trash, but dogs and cats.
I used to haul off the dogs that were dumped at my place to the exclusive homes at the Blue Springs Country Club.  I figured if a dog couldn’t find a good home there, it was his own fault.  One day I took a good looking red Labrador and let him out in the development next to the golf course. About two weeks later, I drove through the neighborhood and there was that red dog in the front yard of an expensive home playing with a bunch of kids.
One day, I was getting ready to go to the store and here came a Beagle up my driveway. I just put him in the back of the truck and headed to Corn’s Apple Market.  When I got to the store I let the tailgate down and went inside. When I was at the checkout counter, I looked up, and that dog had followed a woman into the store. An employee grabbed it, and over the loudspeaker asked if the dog belonged to anyone. The next day, I was talking to my new neighbor across the road, and they said the strangest thing had happened. Someone called and said their dog was up at Corn’s Apple Market, and my new neighbors couldn’t figure out how he had gotten there.
Oak Grove has three truck stops at the I-70 intersection. Two of these truck stops have over 200 parking spots each, and they are full every night. Although traffic is terrible at this intersection, I have finally found an advantage to having this many trucks parked every night. While I lived on Gillespie Road, somebody dumped a poor old bird dog. I loaded him up in my pickup with a coffee can full of Old Roy dog food and headed to the truck stop on the other side of I-70.
I poured the dog food on the ground between a couple of semis, unloaded the dog, and took off. The next morning, I was heading to the coffee shop. I had to wait on a Navaho truck that was turning west onto I-70.  Lo and behold, there was that old bird dog sitting in the passenger seat looking out the window, grinning at me.
Write Jack at jack...@aol.com

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