“Thanks,” he said as he got down on his knees to think about what he had just done. “I really can’t remember how it all started but I am trying my best.”
He took a deep drag on the cigarette that Amanda had just thrown to him. He looked at the dog and slowly began to whimper. Morgan cried for a full fifteen minutes while Amanda and the Legendary White Dog merely stared down at thim from the rim of the pit.
Like Mike Mulligan, Morgan had dug himself into a pit and couldn’t get out. He had reached the point where he could no longer heave the dirt out of the hole, but kept trying, though, among flurries of pathos, only to have the dirt and sand come cascading down on top of his head.
Amanda turned to the dog and said, “Do you think that we should throw him a rope or something?”
“Something,” thought the dog, “But I don’t know what just yet.”
There was, indeed a coil of rope lying by the edge of Morgan’s pit. The dog walked over and pushed the whole thing over the edge.
Morgan stood and stared at the rope near his feet. Then, he looked up at the dog and he laughed as the sky opened up and the rain came down.