When Jack and I strapped the leashes of Chesty and Rocca to our wrists, came out of retirement in the lovely tropical country of Panama, and returned to the USA – specifically to Northwest Arkansas – our families and friends were flummoxed.
“You’re moving to the Ozarks? Isn’t that hillbilly country?”
“Well, at least you’ll save money on dental care. Fit right in when those teeth just fall right out.”
“Seriously? The Ozarks? Are you crazy?”
Since we heard the exact same incredulous tones when we moved to Mexico, and when we immigrated it Panama, neither Jack nor I argued with the stereotype, but neither were we swayed. There is no stronger bias than that which is based on unsubstantiated beliefs.
Besides, we had those two giant mastiffs to worry about getting back onto the passenger section of a Delta jet in order…
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