February 4, 2010

Animal husbandry

I'm just in from a 45-minute walk with Kokomo.  He's taken to snatching up hunks of poop that he finds on the ground, thanks to the idiot and irresponsible dog owners around here who think their own personal dog's poop doesn't stink or pollute or get on other people's shoes.

My position is that Koko's eating poop because he's bored and not getting enough exercise, so I've been taking him further afield lately.  Today we are at the very end of our grand tour, maybe 25 steps from home, when his head dropped, his mouth opened, and he scooped and swallowed in one gulp.  Maybe my compadre is correct; maybe it's a vitamin deficiency.  And maybe one of these first days one of us will actually call the vet or look online to find out what the likely cause really is.

My reward for the big walk was discovering in the mailbox five (5) fabulous postcards and a letter from my pal Jack.  I love the postcard above. To my British grandfather who worked in a granite quarry and built houses and raised sheep: this one's for you.

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