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My Lucky Day
By Linda H. Barnette
John and I used to enjoy going to the casino at Cherokee. It was a lovely drive for a day trip, going up the mountain, looking at the scenery, and stopping for breakfast at a favorite restaurant near Old Fort.
We also liked playing the slot machines, especially the ones in the old part of the building before they expanded it. It was fun to hear the quarters clink both going into the machines and as they came out if we happened to win a few dollars. It was an exciting place also to watch other people having fun.
But one day I just happened to hit the jackpot. As the machine started beeping and the lights started flashing, a bunch of curious people came over to see what had happened. A guy came out and told me how much I had won and handed me the cash since I had won more than you could just get out of the machine. I was so excited.
After that, we left Harrah’s and headed home. When we decided to stop for something to eat and drink, I discovered that my wallet was missing. It had my winnings plus all of my important cards inside, so we turned around and headed back to the casino. When I went inside, I approached the security guard and told him what had happened. In just a few minutes he returned and handed me the wallet with the money inside. So apparently a really good and honest person had seen me drop it in all of the excitement and had turned it in to security. I wish I had known who it was so that I could have thanked him and shared my winnings with him.
That was my lucky day in more than one way.
 
Who’s In Charge?
By N. R. Tucker
For years when our daughter worked, we watched MJ, the granddog. This started so MJ could play with our dogs. One at a time, our boys crossed the rainbow bridge, and that’s when the power shift occurred. Our two sixty-five plus pound dogs were not allowed on any furniture except for their dog beds. Two good-sized dogs plus a visiting dog of equal size would take up all seating options. It was out of the question.
Once MJ was the lone dog in the house, I got soft. I can’t blame my family for the change in our home. It was my decision. I tossed a blanket over the love seat and invited MJ to sit beside me so I could pet her. She was thrilled to be allowed to sit with people as she did at her own home.
MJ slowly took over the entire love seat by leaping up and spreading out, taking both seats. To sit in my preferred seat — in the house my husband and I own — I needed to move sixty-five pounds of furry friend, typically by picking up her rear end and sitting immediately. Speed was vital, otherwise MJ spread out again.
If, while sitting beside her, I grabbed my laptop to do a little work, she huffed, as if to say, “You’re sitting here to pet me, not put your fingers on that keyboard.”
Thank goodness I didn’t let her on the couch or our bed. And if there is any doubt, the granddog was in charge.
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