through the semester he foolishly has squandered all of his money.
He calls home. "Dad," he says, "you won't believe what modern education
is developing. They actually have a program here in Bozeman that will
teach our dog Ol' Blue how to talk."
"That's amazing!" his Dad says. "How do I get Ol' Blue in that program?"
"Just send him down here with $1,000," the young cowboy says, "I'll get
him in the course."
So ... his father sends the dog and $1,000.
About two-thirds through the semester, the money again runs out. The
boy calls home. "So how's Ol' Blue doing, son?" his father wants to
know.
"Awesome! Dad, he's talking up a storm. But you just won't believe
this. They've had such good results with talking, they've begun to
teach the animals how to read."
"Read?!" exclaims his father. "No kidding! How do we get Ol' Blue in
that program?"
"Just send $2,500. I'll get him in the class."
The money promptly arrives. But our hero has a problem. At the end of
the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk nor read.
So he shoots the dog. When he arrives home at the end of the year, his
father is all excited.
"Where's Ol' Blue? I just can't wait to talk with him, and see him read
something!"
"Dad," the boy says, "I have some grim news. Yesterday morning, just
before we left to drive home, Ol' Blue was in the living room, kicked
back in the recliner, reading the Wall Street Journal. Then he suddenly
turned to me and asked, 'So, is your daddy still messing around with
that little redhead barmaid at the Blue Sky Cafe and Tavern?'"
The father groans and whispers, "I hope you shot that lying ole flee bag
before he could talk to your Mother!"
"I sure did, Dad!"
"That's my boy!"
The kid went on to be a successful lawyer.
Editor's Note: No offense intended to any reader.
I knew I should have gone to MSU!!! 
