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| "Die, lawn, die!" |
Dickens seems to have developed some sort of grudge against grass and shrubs. When he's full of energy, or anxious about something, he grabs a big mouthful of lawn, tears it up, and flings it away with a toss of his head. As someone who truly hates mowing lawns, I'm of two minds about this. I'm worried that come the winter rains the backyard will be littered with small muddy holes. At the same time I have to admire the work he's done around the edges, which are hard to get at with the string trimmer.
He's also taken a dislike to the rosemary and honeysuckle bushes along the back fence. The formerly lush growth there is slowly succumbing to repeated onslaughts similar to those inflicted on the lawn. I'm not as conflicted about this as I am about the lawn. First, I've wanted to cut this back for a while now. And second, there are far worse things in the world for a dog to smell like than fresh rosemary.
ok wow! remember how i told you Dickens looks just like my golden and acted like him too? Riley used to do this to the grass when he had a tennis ball. He would pull out huge tuffs of grass and fling them off to the side..kinda embarassing at the park
ReplyDeletePerhaps there is some goat genetic material wandering around in Dickens. I enjoy the occasional blade of grass myself.
ReplyDeleteRipley