As regular blog readers know, I have been driving up to Fort Collins a lot lately, since both my brother-in-law George and sister Susan have been experiencing health issues. Since neither has much energy these days, as soon as I arrive I am given the task of walking their dog Blackberry (the other dog - Tutu - stays inside and uses a "wee" pad. Don't ask me why). And so the other day I took Blackberry to the open space just to the north of their townhouse, which used to be a farm. It is a fairly large piece of land, with a high fence on the west side shielding it from Shields Avenue (no pun intended), and a split-rail fence separating it from the backyards of the homes on the east. It evidently belongs to an older couple that used to farm the land and are now retired, but still want to hold onto the property. It remains a kind of secret park, known only to the neighbors and a hell of a lot of geese. In any case, Blackberry liked it too, frequently rolling around on the ground and then running about. It wasn't until I got back to Susan and George's townhouse that I found out that Blackberry had been rolling around in manure. And you ask why I don't own a dog?
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