Since we moved to The Farm, my cute little indoor puppy has turned country. Today I was called on the phone to be told that he brought into the house a huge dead rabbit.
There is blood all over the family room floor and no one is going near it or clean it up because "it is not their dog."
Not that I wasn't to think rationally, but rationally I suppose it is only that fair I clean it up.
When he brought home that dead rat, S cleaned it up.
When he brought home that kangaroo leg, S cleaned it up.
Although in my honour, when my dog brought home whole lemons he found underneath the lemon tree, I cleaned that up.
So maybe it is someone else's turn.
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