Aug 1, 2011 - Ponderin'    Comments Off on Ole Buff

Ole Buff

My Dog ran with the wrong crowd.   And shared their fleas and demise.

MY dog was gone, —big old lovable Buff. He looked like Lassie, the big sweet English Collie.

His food dish was full; he did not come home at night.

We called.   

We whistled.   

We hunted.

Next day on the school bus I asked, “Have any of you seen a big old yellow collie?” “Yup,” said one of the boys, “we shot one yesterday.”

My eyes stung with tears, but I didn’t let him see them.  I wanted my Dad to go down and whip their Dad, but he didn’t.

Dad said, “It’s a rancher’s right. They have sheep and Buff was running with a pack of dogs —assumed to be sheep-killing dogs.”

This is what happens when you run with the wrong bunch.  You find yourself doing what they do —even when it is wrong.

“Every- body’s doing it.”    You find yourself going where they go —knowing you should not be there.

“Everyone’s going.”  You find yourself talking like they talk; you know better. And people judge you by the company you keep.

“Do not be deceived: “Evil company corrupts good habits”  (1Cor.15:33)

No doubt about it. Always has; always will.

Look what happened to ole Buff—assumed guilty and shot.   My heart hurt—Buff was dead—once again Dad taught me about life

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