When I take Maggie to the farm I throw training dummies in the water for her and she chases the ATV (or I chase her) over most of our 200 acres. When we get home she follows me around the house, room to room, until I take the whistle from around my neck and hang it on the hook in my studio, remove my farm shoes and my old blue work shirt. Only then does she realize the fun is over for another day and she can safely collapse into her road kill imitation without missing out on something.

One pooped pup

One pooped pup


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