After a little nap, we go to muck out a stall.
Pete is allowed some contact.
Garrett, not so much, we'll work on that later.
He's obliging by steering clear of the puppy.
Time for our chores: feeding the chickens.
6 weeks of age and he's very keen on the fowl already.
No fear of the ox, none.
Mostly we're free walking, letting Carlson follow me or Pete.
When too many hazards abound, he's sporting a wee little harness.
Much to his dismay.
We're on the clock now, refilling horse troughs, no messing about.
OK, maybe a little bit of shenanigans during the umpteenth pee break.
Anyone ever have sharp baby teeth up one's nose? The puppy breath is so worth it.
Chilling in the office.
Supervising the cleaning of one of the houses.
Correcting Flynn's vacuuming style.
Back at the barn, correcting my dusting style.
Checking the suds while we wash a vehicle.
After work, we go put fresh flowers on Cole's grave and Carlson steals them.
All in a day's work.
So far potty training is going well, only one mistake, thank goodness it wasn't in bed, because, yes, he sleeps in my arm!
