Pet Cemetary

 The sun is shining, my fence is upright and sturdy, and I have soil under my nails. All is right in my world. I have laundry on the line, blowing gently in the wind. Five new trees are in the ground and cost nary a cent. I am determined to plant enough little seedlings to create a wind break for the newly restored fence.

I have been about my most un-favorite task. That would be poop patrol after a long winter. It always amazes me, the amount of poop that comes from such small dogs. I cover my right hand with a sturdy plastic bag that has been checked carefully for holes. I hold another bag in my left hand to hold what the right hand is picking up. It is better if you don't think about what it is that you are doing. He Who mows does not do this ....... ever. He would just mow over it and distribute it evenly throughout the yard. I am the Poop Scooper.

While patrolling my yard, I found a dead bird. This is the second one I have come upon this year. Last week I found my Cujo with the bottom half of a little rabbit in his mouth. He is a pretty smart little dog, but he does not know the command "SPIT!". He kept trying to come in the house with it, no doubt thinking to add it to his treasures he has hidden under the table by my chair. I am so thankful I saw it before he came in. Earlier this winter he tried to bring a frozen dead mouse in.

No rare disease has fallen upon the wildlife here, just Martha, the boy cat hunting. He does not eat what he kills. He brings it to Cujo. Martha and Cujo share a special bond. They attack each other and play endlessly. Martha allows Cujo to eat his cat food and at the end of the day, they groom each other.

I wish Martha would find another way to show his affection for Cujo!