It is the beginning of the longest season and temper flares now and then like bursts of gas refinery burn-off. Prickly. Irritable. Sloth. No long walks with dog and gun. Those are far ahead. Too far ahead. Irritable itch. We’ll get through. Somehow. Somehow. Some way.

I think.


Author: Tom Reed

Four English setters tell me what to do.

3 thoughts on “Prickly”

  1. Argh. How I hate the season of velcro invasives and the damn Houndstounge. It’s the nemesis of my yard and therefore the dog. Too far ahead and too far behind are the grateful seasons. The visual makes me cringe.

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