I KNOW THERE IS SOMETHING HERE.
Something deep in my terrier brain, a message from my ancient ancestors, compels me forward to FIND THAT DAMN VARMINT.
While I have absolutely no idea of what it is, IT SMELLS RIGHT, and that’s all that matters.
ONCE MORE, INTO THE BREACH
Neither rain, nor sleet, nor CONCRETE BARRIERS will stop an Airedale Terrier with varmint in the nose.
Does it really matter what it is that’s under there? NO!
Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now, gotta go, gotta go, gotta go (GET THAT VARMINT)
A moment, to pause, to reflect, and to catch my breath before trying madly to tear the harness from my body and run wild and free to get whatever it is that’s either living or dead down there. STAY FILTHY, MY FRIENDS.
Love,
Bogart
