After the rain and hail yesterday, Ms. Pearl went for a walk to The Enchanted Forest. On the way she took a dip in the creek, snuffled around the entrance to a little animal's home along the creek bed and rolled in an unknown substance, making me yell, "Cut that out!"
On the way back, M.P. took another dip in the creek and found the perfect stick, the kind of stick dogs probably dream about. She wanted to take it to Mister. That's what she calls Tom.
It was unwieldy, but she was determined and joyous, loping along with her present.
I'm taking this to Mister, oh, yes, I am!
I'd like to say she carried that stick all the way back home, but just before she got to the garage, she dropped it and no amount of coaxing would get her to pick it back up.
Who knows? Maybe her jaws were tired.