If it flies, and my husband shoots it, then this sweet pup will retrieve it.
And somehow this picture manages to make the hunting experience look kind of neat and pretty as opposed to barbaric and gory.
Not this picture. The duck looks, well, dead. And the sweet pup? He just looks bloodthirsty.
And because I know that my husband reads my blog . . .
Honey, just a reminder, Henry doesn't like to get his hands dirty, so I'm thinking he won't care for killing animals. And Harper? Well, she's going to be my hippie. So it looks like it will just be you and that pup wading through swamp waters on cold, wet January mornings.
Upon your return, you'll find us snuggled up under the covers, staying dry and warm, and dreaming of hugging trees.