She keeps busy burying and digging up and re-burying her bone so we figured this is what she was up to. Since it had been raining for four days, the ground would be soft.
And muddy.
"Where's your hole, Abby?" I asked. "Go find your hole."
I learned ten years ago, with Stella, that there is no point in getting annoyed with most projects dogs set themselves upon. What's the point? Stella would come racing up the lane with a dead seagull in her month. If I hollered at her, she'd run away (yes, I learned this by doing) so to get the dead seagull -- or whatever -- out of her mouth, I asked her to show me her treasure. I just had to act as excited as she was about whatever it was hanging out of her mouth and she'd bring it to me.
Learning to be a cheerleader was the hardest lesson of my life.
"Show me your hole, Abby."
"Is your bone in there?"
No bone.
I have no idea why she chose to dig this particular hole in this particular spot but my working theory is that she is giving "Papa" another hole to fill. She helped him plant linden trees a few weeks ago so I guess this is where she'd like to plant a tree.
Likely a dogwood.
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