Koda and the Big Red Ball: a short parable about scary things

There’s a humongous big red ball in my front yard. Just sitting there, waiting for me. It wasn’t there yesterday.

I can’t see teeth, but I know it’s got ’em. Snappy, snaggly, yellow ones. I’ll watch it. From a distance. If it moves, I’ll jump in and rip it apart. I will.

Nothing yet. OK, I’ll test it, circle it, look for weak spots. If it moves, I’ll rip it apart. Or run. Depending on those teeth.

It moved! No teeth yet. But they’re there. I know it.

New things are dangerous. I heard a red ball got a Rottie up on Overland once. It’s not getting me.

“Koda! Play with the ball! Go on, boy. It’ll be fun,” says the Professor.

Right. Easy for him to say from up on the porch.

I’ll watch it, thanks. Just in case.

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I like going places: out West, west of the West, and all the way around the back of the globe to the East. I like to go by train, plane, automobile, horseback. Whatever. And I like writing about what I see, feel, hear, smell, and touch all along the way and once I get there.

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