I Became My Daddy’s Retriever

Even The Dog Felt Sorry For Me

First and foremost, we never, and I mean never, went hunting for a trophy. We went hunting for food.

Okay, originality was certainly not my strong suit back then. At the time I read where the name Spot had already been taken.

Until the day he wasn’t.

That’s when I was informed I’d just become my dad’s brand new retriever.

Until I stepped into the water. I suppose to that point I’d experienced several various stages of cold, but d*mn, never like that.

On a positive note, by the time I made it to shore and handed the ducks to my father, I’d managed to beat most of the two bird’s feathers off.

Written by

A published author enjoying married Texas bliss. Dog person living with cats. A writer of Henry James' stories. Featured In MuckRack. Top Writer In Fiction.

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