trampled underfoot

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aaahh’s at this time of year (in nashville anyway) that we can begin to get excited about brown turning to green, cold turning to warm, and grey skies turning blue. dave & i like to end our workdays with ball throwing and romps in the yard with the dogs (well, we throw the ball and the dogs do most of the romping). despite the fact that they’ve reached their 2 year mark, we still refer to fletcher & watson as “the puppies” because of their penchant to play like brothers, fight like brothers and act like general hooligans. once they get on a roll they have virtually no regard for themselves or anything or anyone in their path. when in the presence of these two it’s not in your best interest to relax and take your eye off the ball…


don't feel so sorry for me...i came out of this one unscathed

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