Anyway, once we turned back onto our street and were only a couple houses from home, Sandra and Jerry took off to be about their daily business. Carl waited until we turned into the driveway, gave a croaking laugh, and winged away.
I know the extended murder has a larger territory than just our block, and have seen Jerry—he’s hard to miss—and I think Sandra too as far away as the uphill park where I walk on some weekends. But our yard seems to be home base.
So right now Miss B is getting her biweekly bath, and Boxnoggin is attempting to hide behind me even though he’s not due for a scrubbing until next month. (He has tender skin, our square-headed lummox.)