The ride began as any weekend trip to home from college would. A quick stop at the filling station for gas and treats. Once properly equipped with unleaded and beef jerky began the trek home. Brett, Jeff, Rick, and myself were going home for the first time since leaving for college. The home town was only about sixty miles away, so we were pretty familiar with the area.

Rick suggested that maybe we take an alternate route, for fun, and none of us could foresee just what that detour would bring. We live in the northeast part of Oklahoma, and its very rural. We are driving down the road when this house with about seven hundred lawn ornaments catches our eye.

We know that stealing is wrong, but there is about a two hundred pound Great Dane statue practically begging us to take him home. It was at this point when some sort of teenage vandal telepathy began because none of us spoke a word, as we piled out of the Blazer and began loading up that dog. Not a word was spoken until some five or ten miles down the road, when Brett asked what we should do with it. Many ideas were discussed but in the end it was decided that we should sleep on it, and talk about it the next day.

The next day would be the last day the Great Dane would remain with us. We were travelling on an old county road when the back tire of the Blazer slid off the pavement. Then I over corrected the Blazer, and the next thing I know, we are rolling the Blazer, finally coming to a rest after three rolls with the wheels in the air. The back glass is busted out and the Great Dane had escaped.

Everyone in the Blazer is fine. We scurry out of the car and see the Great Dane sitting in its correct position, as if to be starring at us. We rush over to the dog and shove him into the ditch, just as the Highway Patrol rolls up. The trooper greets us and asks the usual questions. Have we been drinking or doing drugs? Where we're heading? How fast were we going? Is this dog statue yours? We answered no to every question.

He does his thing. He calls us a wrecker, and then walks back over to the dog. I am sweating. There has probably been a stolen property report made on this thing. We are probably moments from going to jail. He looks at us and again asks if we are sure this dog isn't ours. Again we assure him we have never seen the dog before. He then tells us to make ourselves useful, and help him load it in his car, his wife would love it.

We helped the trooper load the dog and watched as he drove away. I checked the papers for months wondering if the same fate greeted the trooper that met us because of that statue. I did read that the home owners where we stole the dog won the Missouri State Lottery two weeks later.