Wolfe’s Woofers: The Collar

Sunday, February 16th, 2014

Dennis-Wolfe-Wolfes-WoofersI was sitting at a table on the deck of the Holiday Hotel when I heard someone say, “Hey, Grandpa.”
When I turned around it was Davin, with Melody close behind him.
“Oh, I’m so glad I found you here,” Melody said. “Can you take care of Davin while I go to the doctor for a checkup?”
“Sure,” I said. “We’ll have lunch together.”
“I like having lunch with you, Grandpa,” Davin said, after his mother left. “You let me get ice cream and Coke and my mom never lets me get them.”
“Well, that’s what Grandpas are for,” I told him.
As we ate our lunch, two priests walked in and sat at the table next to us.
“Davin, don’t stare,” I said very softly.
“Why are they dressed like that?” Davin asked.
“They are priests,” I told him.
“Priests?”
“They are sort of like the minister at your church,” I said. “You’ve never seen a priest?”
“No, Grandpa.”
One of the priests noticed that Davin was staring at him like he had grown an extra head.
“Hello, young man,” the priest said. “How old are you?”
“I’m eight,” Davin said.
“Eight years old? What are you staring at?”
Davin pointed to his neck.
“Oh, you’re looking at my collar. Do you know why I wear this collar?”
“Yes,” Davin said. “Because it kills ticks and fleas for up to three months.”

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