Tuesday, September 2, 2008
short story
Back in 1898 when I was a bar-keep in the old west, a three-legged dog came hopping upto the bar. He told me he needed help. Told him I'd do what I could, I like dogs. He said, "I'm looking for the guy who shot my paw." (I thought this is better than telling you about what I did at work today.)
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2 comments:
Ron
So happy you have a blog! Maybe you could post some of your old police stories on here. Or some excerpts from your future book.
alli
Encourage him more Allison--he's gotten lazy about his book.
We need to get Denise to blog, too!
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