Back. Short trip since it was hot. Walk to the dog park, one lap around, lie in the shade, walk back.
In between is the unmowed edge of the sports fields. Wickson running through the weeds is like dragging a Swiffer through a pile of ticks.
(We refer to them as Wickson’s Tick Sons)
From today:
OK will post more later, but Mona and Wickson are now celebrating this announcement by insisting on a trip to the dog park, and when I get back, it’s time for humans to go to the baseball park, so will be out for a while.
Thanks for all the well wishes, everyone!
That came from our first rough collie, "Ricky", who would always stick his head in the tall grasses and come out with ticks, so he became Ricky tick taxi, after "Rikki-Tikki-Tavi" in the Jungle Book by Kipling.
