Tuesday, September 19, 2017

One random Thursday evening

I'm not sure whether the dog enjoyed better the attempted kill of the skunk outside our door
or the bath that came after.
 
He had the thing in his mouth.
It sprayed 
It played dead.
It scampered off.
 
This all happened within about five seconds of Patric and I walking out into the night to take him on a short walk before bed, chattering away with each other for the first time the entire day as the leash flew from Patric's hand. 
 
 Brother, never a break.

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