Gettin Figgy

Summer's almost over, and with the hot weather go the figs from the tree. Not that they ever ripen to maturity, but some of them do fall - small, hard, undeveloped versions of their potential selves - and Arthur picks them off the ground, carries them to one of the hammocks and gnaws on them where he thinks he can't be seen. I know this because I spy on him through the office window.

Josh knows this because he's the one that collects Arthur's poop in the morning.



(see May 23 post for more fig activity)