During Sunday School a couple of weeks ago I was asked to read a scripture from the Old Testament.  I replied I could not, my dog ate my scriptures.  They laughed.  I did not.

Alas, I spoke truly.  My dog really did eat them.  Swallowed several pages.  In an effort to save her from certain destruction, Clara pleaded, "Mom, please try hard not to kill Gretel.  She didn't mean it! They just looked so tasty to her!"  This is especially sad for me because these were the set my folks gave me at my baptism nearly thirty years ago, and there are markings and thoughts contained in them from my childhood venturing into the world of doctrine, manifestions of real spiritual work and study.  Now is my opportunity to get another set of scriptures, introduce myself and make some memories with it...