We went early to the dog park this morning and somebody (hint-not me) rolled in poop and had to get a bath when she got home. Now she has to sit outside until she is dry. You’ve never seen such pouting. I’m outside with her but I guess that doesn’t matter. She must have been listening last night to Z’s screams about how mean I am.
I know that kind of pouting. I get that everytime I clean off the fresh elk poop my Border Collie has worked so hard to place in just the right spot — a little dab behind each ear.