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Classic or gourmet bbq sauce for your steak

Classic Or Gourmet BBQ Sauce For Your Steak?

When I used to be a kid, I had a dog named Prince. I didn’t name him, he came that way, he also came with the sort of bad attitude only a small dog can have. Prince was some kind of spaniel dachshund mix, and was sort of funny looking, but he was also extraordinarily loyal, he loved everyone in the family, and he was a brilliant watchdog. The one thing that scared him was fireworks, and each fourth of July, at the first bang of the first firecracker he would disappear for one or two days.
My siblings and I adored the fourth. Back then, you could buy any amount of finger dumping small explosives, and we always stocked up. We also loved the 4th
We’d invite the neighbors and have a gigantic cook-out from about 2 in the afternoon, until midnight.
Up to that time, I did not know a skunk could spray on the run, but that is’s just what it probably did, as Prince closed in. That skunk gave him both barrels, and then some. It all occurred so fast, my uncle and I did not have time to get within, but the skunk was far enough away from us, so we didn’t get sprayed. Prince, on the other hand, was embarrassed that some kind of cat-like animal had bested him, and failed to even notice how terrible he smelled, being a fan of sharp odors, like all dogs are. He ran back to us for a sympathy pat, which he did not get.
He then dumped the whole thing on Prince. ‘Tomato juice will get rid of that skunk smell, and there’s some of that in my bbq sauce, along with a whole lot of other things which smell way better than skunk.’ He was right, Prince smelled miles better, so I grabbed the hose to rinse him off, just as my little brother sparked his first firecracker of the day. He disappeared every fourth, so we didn’t worry too much, but he had’d not done it covered in bbq sauce.
two days later, as one of our neighbours was cleaning out his back shed, he smelled what he believed was barbecue wafting up from under the floor. He lifted up one of the boards, and there was Prince, snoozing away, wearing a two-day-old coat of barbecue sauce. I took him home, washed him off, and everything was fine, but till the day he trotted off to doggie heaven, he carried a faint smell of my Uncle Lou’s spicy bbq sauce.

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