Mostly True Memoirs

How the Tables Have Turned

Holy smokes – what a rainstorm!

It’s been gray and rainy all morning, but suddenly it turned pitch dark.

The wind began to howl.

And the rain started pelting in sideways.

My little dog is freaking out.

My last dogs were German Shepherds.

They would have stood guard to protect me, barking at the storm.

But not my little Wrigley.

She is trembling in fear, burying her snout in the crook of my elbow.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Standard

Leave a Reply