I wrote this when I was in english 30-1. The idea was not to use any E's. Its tougher then it sounds.


To whom this may apply,

A day ago, my dog and I dug. Why did I dig with my dog you ask? To a dog, digging is natural,
why shouldn't a dog dig if digging to a dog is natural? Now as a pair, to dig is without a doubt a
notion far too privy for our minds to truly absorb as fact- for most that is. On the topic of fact
and validity, it isn't at all absurd to think that humans could find digging as natural as our dog
companions! Sadly, with so many forward-looking apparatus', hydraulic contraptions, and human know-how,
digging is now a sad story only found within pits of ignominious and putrid tar sand. Why, in my day digging
was not only natural, it was indubitably a Canadian tradition such as Christmas or Labor Day. Oh! Fond thoughts of scooping and lifting still lugubriously occupy my spirit. Occasionally I pray, "O' God all mighty! Lap our souls of sin and kindly supplant our hands with a just coat of dirt and land!"
My invocations to this day go unsung. God in his own, must also hold-fast in opposition of digging. Still, you may
ask why a day ago my dog and I dug. In such a world so critical of my calling, only a singular thing was still to do.
With the stab of my pitch fork and claw of my company, I dug my final dig. It is in this abyss that I lay calm, still.
Digging onward amidst shadows, though blind against a backdrop of soil.

PS. To my consort, Martha. I pray you will cotton on.