In the Twister’s Path

Muddy grime dripped from the dog’s tongue as he dug furiously into the damp soil. After a deep long sniff in the gopher hole, he continued with renewed strength. Only his wagging tail stuck out of the hole he had dug. Damp earth lay strewn out behind him. When he stopped to rest, Bob petted him and urged him on with encouraging words. Bob and his dog, Prince, had been hunting gophers much of the afternoon. The hot sun beat down on them as they sat in the middle of the hay field peering into...