Huck is looking out the window on the south side of the house with an air of agitated confusion. Where the silver maple full of birds and squirrels that provided hours of great cat TV once stood, there's nothing but a pile of stump shreddings; mulch to be carted away.
RX: (narrating for her cat) "You've changed things and I don't like it!"
Me: "I'd like that on my tombstone, please."
BTW, if anyone needs a pickup truck load (at least) of wood mulch in the Indy area, we can hook you right up.
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