We drove in silence, well out into the farm country of the Snake River Plain. It was Memorial Day, and we were supposed to be heading to a family cemetery to meet Toni’s parents at the gravesite of her younger brother, now gone some 30 years.
The best damned fishing dog ever
https://ift.tt/OPEWm5q The best damned fishing dog ever
https://ift.tt/LWxsTE2
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