matters of fact

Despite all the yellow pollen around him, tiny chumley and his bright brown eyes get extra glinty this time of year when we go outside. it's the start of digging season, the little kielbasa tells me with every ounce of yearning that his little body can muster. time to work on our holes for this year's daffodil plantings.

It doesn't matter that the daffodils we planted in prior seasons haven't finished blooming yet.  It doesn't matter that he knows a paw wash and a wet nose wipe will be the end to his otherwise very satisfactory excavating adventures. And  It doesn't matter that when I stand outside in all that pollen - watching and often helping my little bulldozer clear roots and rocks so that his paws can dig deeper - it doesn't matter that the orifices in my head become an itchy, inflamed, and runny mess.  

All that matters, is that he digs the holes he knows he must dig.  And having a happy, sated little wolf is all that matters to me. :) 

 

mom, if u r ready to have me dig again just whistle ok? oh and maybe unlatch the gate if it is not too much trouble :)