Ruskin didn't like archeologists; they
were always digging up problems from the past.
Like the day Bigelow walked in and announced—
Earth's Gone To The Dogs!
By William J. McClellan
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
October 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Ruskin leaned back and yawned—the porch chair creaked comfortably. It was a comfortable day. Fifty yards away the barnyard was alive with Spring noises. Clean crisp smells floated to him through the bright morning air.
Daisy walked slowly up and watched him with big affectionate eyes. Ruskin smiled down at her. She was a pretty one, pretty soft hair, deep blue eyes, lithe rounded lines.
"Nice doggie."