Today was lawn-mowing day, and the kids helped me prepare by gathering up all the dead branches that had fallen from the Green Ash trees in the front yard.
As we were piling them up near the woodpile, to use for kindling next winter, Scooter was tagging along with us. With yesterday’s near-tragedy clearly still on their minds, one of the kids suddenly said something really poignant:
“I’m glad we’re not collecting these sticks so we can burn Scooter.”
Yes, I told them, I had just been thinking the same thing.