I’m Always Touched by Your Presents, Dear

Sometimes, during the winter, there are certain backyard tasks that you’re not able to complete before a new coat of snow appears. Then, when it finally reaches a reasonable temperature (or at least reasonable to those of us living in the frozen tundra), the snow melts and reveals what we’ve left undone.  It’s 40 degrees (finally!) and the yard is dotted with little brown presents from our dog.

There’s a slight dip between our yard and the house next door. If the snow melts too quickly, we get a small body of water we refer to as Lake Abby. It is not a place for swimming. Fishing, maybe, if you have a very liberal idea of what you’d like to catch. We try to do ourselves and the neighborhood a favor by staying on top of our cleanup, though.

As long as we’re on the subject, my friend Sue sent a link to an interesting article explaining why dogs like to eat certain things.  I’ll never think of ovens in the same way again.