Inundated in the Catskills
The collies wanted to go ghost hunting. So I took them down to the impoundment called Schoharie Reservoir. There they saw the ghost of a creek, drifting wavering deep in the abyss just past the edge of doom. (Forgive that poeticism, I had been reading Shakespeare to them earlier in the day.) That’s when they barked. They barked and they barked and they barked. They hate poeticisms, almost as much as they hate ghosts.
