LEXINGTON, Mass. — Our 2-year-old golden retriever Murphy inhales everything.
On our 30-minute morning walks, he’ll drag fallen branches up the block. I’ve wrestled bottle caps, napkins and plastic bags from his clenched teeth. This morning we had a standoff over a dried flower.
On the way home, as we traversed the ice-encrusted dirt road toward the end of our walk, I knew Murphy was up to no good again. (It’s become instinct.) But when I looked down, clinched between his teeth was a not-so-crisp, but undamaged, dollar bill.
I removed it from his mouth, thanked him and slipped it in my pocket before heading home.