MERCI: Okay, we can't not do this post. The irony is too much.
TAYLOR: If you remember, Jan worked herself half to death last week cutting some grass with shears and after the rest was mowed, hauling wet grass to the dog pen for mulch.
RUSTY: Monday she went out to pick up poop in the dog pen, heard doors slamming, turned and - Yep, you guessed it. It was the jail work crew.
MERCI: They zipped along with their mower and weed eaters, leveling everything on the curb side of the sidewalk.
TAYLOR: The guys stared and weren't sure what to do when they reached the neighbor with the now hip-high-to-Jan grass.
RUSTY: This is what it looked like when they finished. They cut the grass on both sides of the sidewalk, but they don't cut grass on private property, so the neighbor's lawn now has an off center mowhawk cut.
MERCI: Just as Jan snapped the picture, a car with a choking exhaust problem passed. (See the cloud on the left?)
TAYLOR: She tried again after the "toxic cloud" evaporated.
MERCI: We took her for a walk later and when she saw all that beautiful, healthy mulch-to-be, she wanted so badly to go get a container and steal ... I mean clean up the loose grass to add to our dog pen.
RUSTY: She wants that mulch! It's just going to waste. She restrained herself. Fortunately, last week's mulching pain is too fresh in her short memory.
MERCI: We know we tease her a lot but today we comment her for showing restraint.
RUSTY: After all, if she gets laid up again, who is going to feed us?
TAYLOR: There's a church across the highway with a community soup kitchen. Do you suppose they would deliver to starving furries?