Trump-free afternoon

I think we’re going to revoke landing privileges for the Trump Jet here at dreamranch.

Or maybe we’ll just build a wall.

That guy in the golf hat caused a bad dream for a guest last night and I think he is disturbing my dog.

My old firefighting and trail-building buddy Bob cruised in yesterday with his son, Tyler, on their way to California from Texas. I cooked them dinner and we watched the GOP debate.

My dog Cooper shrank from the TV and stayed outside, despite our rare company. He came and laid at Bob’s feet after we turned of the tube and shut out the talking heads.

I think I know what had been bothering him.

Cooper tends to shy away from loud people who repeat words like stupid with strange emphasis.

I was a little worried about feeding beans and chile to two non-natives traveling a thousand miles in a small car. But my buddy Bob had only one complaint when we rose early for breakfast this morning.

He said he’d had a bad dream about a really rude person showing up for supper.

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