Take Me Out

The baseball season, or more accurately, the post-season, is barreling along to its climactic conclusion. Grace was swept up in the frenzy of it last evening. She found an abandoned baseball in the weeds, lay down in the grass and proceeded to gnaw the skin right off of it in about twelve minutes. Then she buried the skin by a tree at the VFW, and on we went. On the way home, she picked up the skint carcass and brought it home. The Great American Pastime lives in the heart of that hound.