from an email I received . . . I do not know the author, but I totally agree with the message:   M.   

I remember reading about the children of Israel in the Old Testament who turned from God time and time again, only to realize their mistake and pray for forgiveness. Each time, God would forgive them and they would walk with him for a time. So, I am going to ask you to join me in praying for our nation every day. Please read the email below. God is in control.

May God Have Mercy On America; Protect Our Troops

When we were in Texarkana last week, there were signs in people’s yards that said, “America, prayer is our only hope” – with 2 Chron. 7:14 underneath.   We certainly need God’s help!

I have no idea who started this, but I certainly agree with this e-mail. I heard a preacher on TV tonight who said if we pray for our nation that things will turn around.

After a day of contemplation and soul searching, I have decided to reach out to my friends and relatives and ask you to do something that has been troubling me for a long time.

Our nation is/has been on the slippery slope for a long time. If you look around you will find corruption, greed, moral decay, and a steady move away from the things that made us great. The principles upon which this nation was founded are no longer our backbone.

However, we can reverse this trend.

2 Chron. 7:14 in God’s Word, He states,

“If my people who are called by my
name will humble themselves and pray
and seek my face and turn from their
wicked ways, then I will hear from
heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land”

I am convinced that we must pray for our nation and its leaders and ask for forgiveness. So I ask you to join me in this plea to our Lord.

Would you please send this to people in your address book?  Ask them to pray EVERY DAY.  (25 to the 5th power is 9,765,625 people.) IMAGINE if each person reaches TEN others… Or all TWENTY FIVE!

If you do and they comply, we will lift up millions and millions of prayers today to our Creator. He will hear us, and in faith will answer.

Here’s a quote from Ronald Reagan: 

“If we ever forget that we are one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under.”

I truly believe this is why the United States of America is in the shape it’s in today. Most people have forgotten that we are ONE NATION UNDER GOD!   Let us, as Christians, Jews, Muslims,  and all of us who have the freedom to worship in any religion in our great land, stand up and remind people that we were founded on the ideal ONE NATION UNDER GOD.

 

I just must share this vignette which beautifully demonstrates the loyalty and love our precious animals, whether horses, dogs, or others, share withy us because they wish to do so not because they must.  As usual when I read something that touches me, I cried. I do hope it touches you also. M

Subject: Horses – a true story because of love

A brother and sister had made their usual hurried, obligatory pre-Christmas visit to the little farm where dwelt their elderly
parents with their small herd of horses. The farm was where they  had grown up and had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine, which topped the hill behind the farm. Through the years the  tree had become a talisman to the old man and his wife, and a  landmark in the countryside.

The young siblings had fond memories of their childhood here, but the city hustle and bustle added more excitement to their lives, and called them away to a different life. The old folks no longer showed their horses, for the years had           taken their toll, and getting out to the barn on those frosty
mornings was getting harder, but it gave them a reason to get up in the mornings and a reason to live. They sold a few foals each year, and the horses were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day’s end.

Angry, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the  old folks. “Why do you not at least dispose of  The Old One.” She is no longer of use to you. It’s been years since you’ve had foals from her. You should cut corners and save so you can have more for yourselves. How can this old worn out horse bring you anything but expense and work? Why do you keep her anyway?”

The old man looked down at his worn boots, holes in the toes,
scuffed at the barn floor and replied, ” Yes, I could use a pair of new boots. His arm slid defensively about the Old One’s neck as he drew her near with gentle caressing he rubbed her softly behind her ears.  He replied softly, “We keep her  because of love. Nothing else, just love.”

Baffled and irritated, the young folks wished the old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole through the valley. The old couple shook their heads in sorrow that it had not been a happy visit. A tear fell upon their cheeks. How is it that these young folks do not understand the peace of the love that filled their hearts?

So it was, that because of the unhappy leave-taking, no one noticed the insulation smoldering on the frayed wires in the old barn.  None saw the first spark fall. None but the “Old One.”   In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to the barn to save their beloved horses. But the flames were roaring now, and the blazing heat drove him back. He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless before the fire’s fury. His wife back from calling for help cradled him in her arms, clinging to each other, they wept at their loss.

By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife, exhausted from their grief, huddled together before the barn. They were speechless as they rose from the cold snow covered ground. They nodded thanks to the firemen as there was nothing anyone could do now. The old man turned to his wife, resting her white head upon his shoulders as his shaking old hands clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red bandana. Brokenly he whispered, “We have lost much, but God has
spared our home on this eve of Christmas. Let us gather strength and climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair. We will look down upon our home and give thanks  to God that it has been spared and pray for our beloved most precious gifts that have been taken from us.

And so, he took her by the hand and slowly helped her up the snowy  hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his old and withered hand.

The journey up the hill was hard for their old bodies in the steep snow. As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they paused to rest, looking up to the top of the hill the old couple gasped and fell to their knees in amazement at the incredible beauty before them.

Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with heavenly candles. And poised on its top most bough, a crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass. Never had a mere mortal created a Christmas tree such as this. They were breathless as the old man held his wife tighter in his arms.   

Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder and incredible joy.  

Amazed and mystified, he took his wife by the hand and pulled her forward. There, beneath the tree, in resplendent glory, a mist hovering over and glowing in the darkness was their Christmas gift. Shadows glistening in the night light.  Bedded down about the “Old One” close to the trunk of the tree, was the entire herd, safe.

At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door ajar with her muzzle and had led the horses through it. Slowly and with great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping cautiously through the snow. The foals were frightened and dashed about. The skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits. The mares that were in foal with a new year’s crop of babies, pressed uneasily against the “Old One” as she moved calmly up the hill and to safety beneath the pine. And now, she lay among them and gazed at the faces of the old man and his
wife. Those she loved she had not disappointed. Her body was
brittle with years, tired from the climb, but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her gift—     

Because of love . . .Only Because of love . . .      

Tears flowed as the old couple shouted their praise and joy. And again the peace of love filled their hearts. . .

Now, it may not be very unkind of me, but I hope to hell the old man and his wife disinherit their rotten kids!

 

  

Cute Story!

An older, tired-looking dog wandered into my yard.
I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home and was well taken care of.

He calmly came over to me, I gave him a few pats on his head;
He then followed me into my house, slowly walked down the Hall, curled up in the corner and fell asleep.

An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out. The next day he was back, greeted me in my yard, walked inside and resumed his spot in the hall and again slept for about an hour. This continued off and on for several weeks.

Curious I pinned a note to his collar: ‘I would like to find out who the owner of this wonderful sweet dog is and ask if you are aware that almost every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap.’

The next day he arrived for his nap, with a different note pinned to his collar:

‘He lives in a home with 6 children, 2 under the age of 3 – he’s trying to catch up on his sleep. Can I come with him tomorrow?

Now that I am back to work as a principal, I would like to share one of my favorite little stories about how teachers make a difference in a child’s life.  I know that if it had not been for a Mrs. Brown who taught me to read in summer school after nearly failing first grade, I would not not have had a career in education or probably anything else.  I remember the nun who taught me in first grade (after WWII–forty kids in half day sessions) telling my parents in front of me that I was stupid and could not learn.

Teachers Make a Difference

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on every first day of school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy, and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X’s, and then putting a big ‘F’ at the top of his papers .

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child’s past records, and she put Teddy’s off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy’s first grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners… he is a joy to be around..”

His second grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.”

His third grade teacher wrote, “His mother’s death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn’t show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him, if some steps aren’t taken.”

Teddy’s fourth grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is withdrawn and doesn’t show much interest in school. He doesn’t have many friends, and he sometimes sleeps in class.”
 
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy’s. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume.. But she stifled the children’s laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, “Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.”
 
After the children left,  she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class; and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her ‘teacher’s pets.’
 
A year later, she found a note under her door from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life..

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he’d stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

Then five more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor’s degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer…. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.
 
The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson’s ear, “Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.” Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered  back.. She said, “Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I  didn’t know how to teach until I met you.”

(For you that don’t know, Iowa Methodist in Des Moines has the Stoddard Cancer Wing named after Teddy)

 

Thank you to all who has emailed to tell me that they were praying for Al. Until yesterday, I had never heard the word “terminal” while referring to my husband’s carcinoid syndrome of the liver, nor the phrase “no cure.”  Well, it seems that this syndrome is just regular cancer with a moniker stemming from the era where no one knew what it really was–just cancer!  Al has had three separate bouts of cancer, not counting the two types of skin cancer he has been fighting for several years.  To say that I feel like I have been hit by a truck in my gut would be an understatement.  We are going to be buying time with the chemo delivered directly into his liver that he had yesterday and by a couple of other traditional medical treatments. We are also exploring alternative medicine programs that have had extremely high degrees of cancer cures or real remissions!  So while embarking on this new adventure, I feel so sad for him as he endures the nausea and other side effects of chemo.  I wish I could trade places with him for watching him suffer at all is awful.  So please keep him in your prayers. 

 

Al is having surgery tomorrow. His liver carcinoid syndrome has progressed and he is now having symptoms.   To say I am worried is an understatement.  I never ask for help in putting my puppies in great homes, but  need help now as I have not been able to spend the time I normally would to find them the right homes.  I ask for your prayers. I am going to continue working as I really need to do that. The principalship was my life for many years and I am so glad to be working at what I love if only for a couple of months.  So please pray for my Al. Thank you.  Meredith

 

OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY

WINS

THE ROSE BOWL!!!!  

 

GO BUCKS!!!

After not winning a Bowl game in much too long a time, Ohio State was victorious at last. Congratulations to our great team and our great coach!

I want to congratulate Tami and Jeff Byroads on how stunning their Ch. Rattlebridge Costume Party looks as she competes for Best Veteran. Party is well loved!  We have been deeply saddened that Party has never had puppies as we expected her to have lovely puppies.  Dog people have always known that when a wonderful bitch is not able to have puppies when bred to really good dogs it will always happen when she is given any  opportunity to romance the neighborhood stray, she will have puppies! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Catching Up:

Al and I wish everyone a Happy New Year once again. It has been quite a while since I have written about the goings on in our lives–too busy and just struggling to get our life in balance. We have not had an easy end to 2009.  Those of you who remember how excited I was to start riding again on the beautiful black Morgan gelding, Blazer, will understand how unhappy I am that Blazer became lame and went back to Connecticut. He was my dream horse, but what is to be is to be.  I am not riding at the moment which is just as well as I now have two pinched nerves giving me a run for my money; I will ultimately need surgery which will just cause one more difficulty in our lives.  I took myself to the emergency room last week with pain in my jaw and terrible pressure in my chest;  I was admitted for two days while every test possible was done on my heart. My father dropped dead with a heart attack at 45 and my mother died at about 78 of congestive heart failure. Genetics is so unpredictable and I seem to have dodged a bullet; my heart is perfect; stress or reflux was the culprit.  I no longer can do all I once did so I understand all too well my husband’s frustration and anger with the aging process.  The only revenge against aging is to keep moving forward and not give in!  I just wish my orthopedic problems would go hang themselves!

At the beginning of the Christmas holidays, Al had layer upon layer of basil cell carcinoma removed from a four inch area on his head resulting in a real crater on one side of his head to match the dent on the other side of his head from his brain surgery last February. The wound care was really awful for twice a day I had to scrape any new membrane off the crater so that the grafts would take.  It was really fascinating, though, to see the process of the graft taking.  The donor graft site was his thigh so no hair will grow within the four inch circle on his head. I keep threatening to buy him an Ozzie Osbourne wig!

Al is no longer in remission for his progressing liver carcinoid syndrome; he was to undergo surgery yesterday, but since my strong, stoic husband badly bruised his ribs while trying to fix the snow blade on the tractor, surgery was postponed.  Why do men not listen to their wives?  I called home yesterday to find that said husband was out clearing the driveway ( a long one at that) with our new snow blower!  Now with his bruised ribs causing him great pain and the remnants of a nasty cold, why would such a bright man wish to put himself in further jeopardy risking pneumonia thereby causing his extremely necessary liver procedure to be postponed even longer.  When I get on his case he becomes condescending, patronizing, and rude–attributes I do not find endearing but which are typically male!  Since I am back being an substitute elementary principal full time for two months in Columbus City Schools at Forest Park Elementary, a wonderful school, I cannot make sure he is “behaving” and not getting up on the roof to clear snow from the gutters.  However, our new kennel help/housekeeper/my spy, Angie Ward, is just dynamite at balancing everything at home while I do what I love best, work with kids.  Angie tattles on Al when he is not taking care of himself so we can double team him.  I have even asked her to use Al’s car to go back and forth to her home so Al has no wheels and cannot do anything stupid! I love him so much and I understand how frustrated he is because he cannot do the hard manual work he once did; he could and did fix anything. Although his education and career was in biochemistry, he is brilliant at coming up with ingenious solutions to repair machinery or fences or anything at all; he thrives on working outside. Last summer he kept transporting our tractor and our zero turn mower back and forth to the farm to mow as my nephew was working so many hours that he need the help.  They also put up fence at the farm for the horses and down here for the dogs. He is unstoppable!  Please do say a prayer for him as his body has been insulted with so many problems.

We seemed to hibernate over the holidays this year.  I had planned to see movies; I am dying to see Precious and Up in the Air, but never seemed to find time although I really didn’t accomplish much except to bake cookies for the first time in my life and then proceed to eat them to eight pounds more on my flabby body!

The only family we saw were Al’s daughter’s family on Christmas and New Year’s day. Al’s granddaughter, Audrey, is now seventeen and has been accepted at Ohio State. Darren is enjoying middle school. We were invited to Christmas dinner at my brother Bob’s home, but we always spend  Christmas with Al’s daughter these days.  We did go up to the farm for an evening after Christmas to see my niece and nephew and check on the horses.  It was a very quiet holiday time for us which suited us fine this year. Like so many people, I always get really depressed during the holidays as, since my wonderful mother died, my family is not very close anymore; my brothers and I talk and see each other occasionally, but my sister no longer communicates with us–me specifically, although her children stay in touch. It is very sad when families drift apart and old frustrations and still festering open wounds take the place of closeness.  It seems that so many of us long for the wonderful family traditions of Christmas that may still escape us; the warm and loving Walton family dynamics  from the old television show seem to be more of a myth than a reality for so many.

We did not put up a tree this year as last year I sobbed while putting up doggy ornaments each with the name of one of our dogs most of them departed.  I broke down when I put up Bandi’s ornament and Jeanie and Rubens and Danny and Rocky and Nancy and Katie and Rosie O’Grady and the list of beloved dogs goes on. I am sorry if I am getting a bid maudlin, but I can see the faces of all of my babies and will miss them forever until we meet at the Rainbow bridge. 

However, I kept in mind that the real reason for celebrating Christmas was the birth of our Savior and that is quite enough for me.

As for our wonderful present dogs we are enjoying them! We do have puppies right now and will be hoping for the right wonderful homes for them after we have selected the puppies we wish to keep for show. We never let our Cavaliers go to new homes at Christmas time–too busy a time for a new puppy or dog to be introduced to a family.  I do love seeing our dogs become beloved members of families especially when they become as therapy dogs.  At Christmas my friends Lu Ann Rogers and Eddye White gave me a lovely framed collection of all their Rattlebridge therapy dogs in all four colors; all of them beautiful representatives of our breed. The dogs belong to the therapy group Love on a Leash.  I hope to photograph the framed collection and put it on this blog.    Below see our Dory with her owner Angela. Angela helped form a therapy group in her town.  Dory is an absolute hit with all!

 

 

 

 

 

I am pleased that a three of our older puppies still look like they may make the show ring.  Rattlebridge Over the Hump (Humphrey) is a really nice blenheim male;  the tricolor Rattlebridge Tantalize (Liza) is looking good as is the ruby boy Rattlebridge Red Planet at Dawn (Mars). Although I have only shown one dog in two years helping to finish the championship of Ch. Rattlebridge Truth or Dare, if a puppy turns out to be really top quality, we will show him or her.

We had a snow day today, or yesterday as I just looked at the clock.  We have lots of snow and will probably have lots more–hence the purchase of the snow blower as the tractor has frozen lines of whatever which I refuse to let Al fool with since he fell and bruised as related above. The dogs adore the snow, but hate to get their fannies cold and wet and try to sneak in and pee inside!

Flash My friend Kisa Reinke, a really good Border Collie breeder from California just sent me this picture of her Border Collie going best of breed handled by her son Jared.  The Border Collie is a very acceptable color although many people do not often see this color. I think the dog is beautiful ad the kid is not bad either!  

 I have gone on long enough.  Feel free to contact me if you would like: meredith@rattlebridge.com.

until next time  . . .

 

 

American ingenuity is not over, just crops up in different places such as funny emails.

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

 

Let us hope that 2010 issues in a wonderful decade for peace, prosperity, hope, and love for our fellow man no matter skin color, nationality, religious beliefs or political views.  Let us hope that we conquer the problems besetting us personally, nationally, and internationally.  Let us put our lives and country in God’s hands. Al and I wish all of you a blessed New Year! 

The following beautiful message is from the Benedictine Sisters of Eire, Pennsylvania. The Sisters host retreats in their beautiful convent and grounds. I enjoy getting their newsletters and hope someday to find the time to go on one of their seasonal retreats. I have taken this message to heart and will try to incorporate it into my many (and I need many!) resolutions for the New Year:

“Parker Palmer voices my sentiments when he writes,  ‘We have places of fear inside of us, but we have other places as well – places with names like trust and hope and faith. We can choose to lead from one of those places, to stand on ground that is not riddled with the fault lines of fear, to move toward others from a place of promise instead of anxiety.’

We need to challenge one another to conversion of heart through engagement and dialogue on the important issues of our times. As we begin this new year let us move to new
levels of faith, deeper levels of experiencing God and new ways of extending God’s love to others. Let this new year call us to create a world of love and caring, a society in which social justice and compassion are so present that violence, in any form, is inconceivable as a solution to any situation.

This is my prayer for you in this season that celebrates the coming of God into our midst.

Wishing you a peace-filled and happy 2010,”

Christine Vladimiroff, OSB
Prioress
Benedictine Sisters of Erie

 

 

 

 

Now, Ladies, don’t get any ideas . . .

How to Get Away with Murder:

Dear  Tide:

I  am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I’ve used it all of my  married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best. Now that I am in my  fifties I find it even better! In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some  red wine on my new white blouse. My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to belittle me about how clumsy I was, and generally started becoming a pain in the neck. One thing led to another and somehow I ended up with his blood on my new white blouse! I grabbed my bottle of Tide with bleach alternative   to  my surprise and satisfaction, all of the stains came
out! In fact, the  stains came out so well the detectives who came by yesterday told me that  the DNA tests on my blouse were negative and then my attorney called and  said that I was no longer considered a suspect in the disappearance of my  husband.

What  a relief! Going through menopause is bad enough without being a murder suspect! I thank you, once again, for having a great  product.

Well, gotta go, have to write to the Hefty bag people.

Ronda

The Donkey

One day a farmer’s donkey fell down into a well.

The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do.

Finally, he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn’t worth it to retrieve the donkey.

He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone’s amazement he quieted down.

A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing.
He would shake it off and take a step up..

As the farmer’s neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up.

Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well, and happily trotted off!
Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a steppingstone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.

Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

Free your heart from hatred – Forgive.
Free your mind from worries – Most never happen.
Live simply and appreciate what you have.
Give more.
Expect less.

NOW ……. Enough of that crap. The donkey later came back, and bit the farmer who had tried to bury him. The gash from the bite got infected and the farmer eventually died in agony from septic shock.

MORAL FROM TODAY’S LESSON:

When you try to cover your ass, it always comes back to bite you.

 

The Dog Gave It Away

I GOT STOPPED FOR SPEEDING YESTERDAY.

I THOUGHT I COULD TALK MY WAY OUT OF IT UNTIL THE OFFICER LOOKED AT MY DOG IN THE BACK SEAT . . .