Feed me the Rock

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Standing on the rocks in the Smokey Mountains

Have you ever tasted bits of rock during your chow down of those farm fresh veggies? When garden food comes from the dusty ground it’s bound to happen. I had that happen with my beets one time. It doesn’t feel good to the teeth. Which leads me to how this post was born. During one of my morning feedings for my Mastiff puppy I made the wrong decision to take the entire five gallon bucket of food out with me. So I walk to the backyard and put the bucket down on the patio. In an instant this lip smacking, tongue wagging brute knocks over the blasted bucket with his big nose and all the kibble lands in the rocks. I thought of the most colorful curse words that would rival the brightest rainbow you ever saw. So I went with the one word that rhymes with spit. For fifteen minutes I was like a cave man ravaging through the rocks trying to separate the puppy food. This puppy on the patio revelation would hit me like a rock.

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