A nose on four legs
So My Human (MH) says that it’s my nose that gets me into trouble.
MH spent a panting hot Stanford weekend planting trees to make shade for us in a few years time. Dim Brother Baxter and I watched closely as she added humming manure and delicious-smelling bone meal to the holes before sinking the trees into the ground and covering up with more ground and wood chips and little seedlings, she said to make it pretty. I didn’t know before that trees also liked bones and stinky stuff.
Why she got so excited when we took turns to find the buried bone meal, I really don’t understand. And she was even MORE animated when we looked for it again after she re-buried it and arranged the seedlings again prettily in the ground. Her face went quite red with all the chasing around the garden in the sun waving her flipflip at us. It must have been the heat.
I don’t know. My nose is by far my most useful talent! How would we find the bones the builders in the area leave behind for us after a busy day. MH doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
She seems to have lost interest in the garden today, because it’s raining outside and she’s busy painting with her watercolours again while I use my nose for snoring under her feet to keep her company.