In which a 50-something woman embarks on a new career in nursing in a newly empty nest with a newly retired husband, an old cat, a yard full of chickens, a field full of predators, a shotgun and a sense of humor. She is blogging and slogging her way through a wet Pacific Northwest winter...and spring and summer and fall.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Border patrol
My Chihuahua, Cali (short for Caliente), hates to go out in bad weather to do her business. I can't blame her, since the wet grass rakes her underbelly. The out of doors is much more hostile when you are seven inches tall and your belly is only four inches off the deck. So, she backs her hind end off the edge of the walkway or patio and deposits her waste. While her intention is to technically comply with the rules by getting the stuff off of the people areas, she isn't big on precision. So, after a few days, between clean ups, there is a little border of squiggly Cali poops like brown cheese puffs decorating each side of the walkway.
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