Outside.
Wind blowing.
Shivering.
Mumford.
’nuff said.
Me: “Go potty.”
Mumford: “Can’t”
Me: “Why not?”
Mumford: “Gotta get to the grass.”
Me: “You’re in the grass now.”
Mumford: “Wrong grass. Need that grass over there.”
Me: “Fine, we’ll walk way over there.”
Walk.
Walk.
Walk.
She stops.
Me:” Is this the right grass?”
Mumford: “Yep.”
She’s standing and looking around.
Me: “Go potty.”
She’s standing and looking around.
Me: “Go potty.”
She heads back for the house
Mumford: “I don’t have to go now.”
…and gets tangled up in the leash.
It’s sad.
Once inside, I unhooked her leash and as I am taking off my coat, she walks over to a piddle pad and relieves herself.
Don’t.
Just don’t.
Galatians 6:9
And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.
