We're back from two not-all-that-relaxing weeks off. The border collie got sick during our vacation and now we have to stick him with a needle twice a day.
The border collie won't admit he's sick. He calls it a plot by the white coats to extract more dead presidents from a couple of working dogs.
I'm worried. I've gotten used to the border collie and, well, chasing the natives is now completely up to me -- squirrel and rabbit aren't part of the approved diet the white coats developed for the border collie. I was pacing the floor when the doorbell rang over the weekend.
I opened the door to find this basket on the doorstep with a note to the border collie. We hope you get well soon, it read, signed, the natives.