Jack usually picks up a stick on his walk.
It started on the first or second walk and now he does it most of the time. He finds a stick and carries it in his mouth all the way home. Sometimes it’s a little twig, other times it’s big and covered in growth or dirt. We recently had a lot of rain, so he thinks some of the exposed roots are sticks, but eventually gives up. I’ve even seen him trade up a couple of times and change sticks mid-walk.
The first time he did it, it was such a surprise. A lovely, sunrising, just the two of us, surprise. I saw it as a glimpse into his burgeoning personality, something unique and special.
Jack brings home sticks.
This morning we were on the walk, he went for a stick and I said, “Oh, that one? I’m sure we can find a…
View original post 277 more words