Under the Holy Bone

Gott was not mit uns. I have a thing or two to say about that and He has some serious explaining to do... plus pay-back. But that is for elsewhere. What matters is that we are now back under the protection of the Holy Bone.

Rushing in through the back gate, Fips heads to the kitchen door while Rosco heads off to a corner and poops. With barely a slurp or a splash of water, we all flop onto the bed exhausted. I close my eyes as my body slowly purges itself of 16 hours worth of driving vibration. I doze off for a few minutes and when I open my eyes I see Fips standing at my feet, panting contentedly as his fuzzy face stares off into somewhere. Without a doubt, without a shadow of a doubt he is smiling.

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