good boy


My boy dog loves to work. Whenever my husband and I worked in the yard, he hung around us watching.

One day, we had to cut a palm tree down and move it to the side of the property. After we cut and the stem fell, we tied it to the back of the truck with a rope and pulled it. Let me remind you that we live in the jungle and that there is no paved road but dirt.

At a few feet away from the edge of our property, the rope gave out, broke, and left us with a lying palm tree on the dirt. We decided to push over the edge.

We were on our knees getting dirty, pushing the big trunk which wasn’t straight or cooperating. We pushed and pushed as it inched on the dirt towards the edge. The dog watched us sweat and trotted towards us wagging his tail as if to say, “Can I help?”

“Help us!” I gasped.

He dutifully put his tiny paw on the trunk.

I laughed. My husband cracked. We were soon on the dirt laughing, unable to concentrate.

The dog removed his paw and came closer to us with his tail swishing. He had no idea why we were laughing but was utterly happy.

We somehow regained ourselves, pushed the trunk to the side, and patted his head.

“Good boy!”


For The Daily Post’s daily prompt:Dirty





6 thoughts on “good boy

  1. Dogs — so touching. Most of them try so hard to be good, to help. They really are our best friends. Only not all that smart. Or dextrous. Or articulate. And they always lose at chess. But otherwise, hey, you can’t do better.

    Liked by 1 person

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