The Bog

In the midst of my land is a thick, swampy grove where no human goes. It is a haven for snakes, root rot, mosquitoes, burrowing critters, and fox. On my walks, I give it a wide berth. In my mind, I figure it to be where wild things go to peacefully leave this world.I call it the Bog.On the day that cries of a wounded animal drew me to the Bog, I was no different than you. Now, I am a changed man.I now understand the choices that dogs make (yes, they make choices) and how they were...
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In the midst of my land is a thick, swampy grove where no human goes. It is a haven for snakes, root rot, mosquitoes, burrowing critters, and fox. On my walks, I give it a wide berth. In my mind, I figure it to be where wild things go to peacefully leave this world.I call it the Bog.On the day that cries of a wounded animal drew me to the Bog, I was no different than you. Now, I am a changed man.I now understand the choices that dogs make (yes, they make choices) and how they were selected to be man�s best friend. I understand the source of their soul and their place in the hereafter.I see them as messengers and guardians. I understand the depth of their love as they seek little more than our friendship. And I understand their willingness to defend us in death.No one has been able to tell this story until now, because no one other than me has met Napoleon!I challenge you not to open the covers of this book�unless you are willing to see your dog in a new light.