Journey with Dog

After hydroplaning in early morning darkness on the wet exit ramp to the Memphis airport, I bid Jesse Godspeed to the mission in Belize.On the drive back to Atlanta with Jesse's dog, Owens, I listened to sermon tapes of my daughter's choosing--the significance of the child preaching to the parent did not escape me.
We made a few detours to empty church parking lots--we weren't partial to a denomination--in order to dash to the grass, dodging raindrops. After seven hours alone with him, I have concluded that Owens is quite an accommodating canine.(I wanted to describe him as postmodern, but researching the word was exhaustive.) Any comment or question posed to my traveling companion was answered with a shrugged look of Whatever and then he drew a ritual circle in his nest of blankets and disappeared behind the back seat.