Living With Dogs, Back Then And Now
Ralph was groomed last week. He “said” something about it by taking off for our back field, signaling, “Deer poop! I need deer poop! I must roll in deer poop!” When he returned, wagging his newly trimmed tail to con me into giving him a biscuit, our 11-year-old dog was, shall we say, aromatic. I think he was also pleased with his svelte summer look. Ralph got his l-o-n-g black coat from his Aussie Shepherd mother. It makes him look about 20 pounds heavier than his normal 60 pounds. During a half-century of having dogs, I never had them professionally groomed, trimmed or ...