Two of my favorite people words together: “Wiley, up.”
I’m no Mozart or Picasso, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a thing of beauty.
I see art when I step out the back door into one of my favorite places. Some would call it a backyard. I call it paradise. There are squirrels to chase, trees to lounge under, and (perhaps best of all) it’s all mine.
And it doesn’t matter where I am in the house – it is music to my ears when my treat jar gets opened. That, or a treat bag, or the bag with my rawhides in it. Or the door where my people keep my leash. Forget Canon in D. I’ll take the sound that signifies impending adventure over that piano music any day.
Until today. Today music and art combined into it’s own fabulous kind of symphony I will forever hold dear to my little doggie heart.
It began as it…
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