Yesterday I finally tackled the long put-off chore of cleaning out the dead growth in the pots on our deck.
I thought that I was all on my own for this job, but I was wrong: Max ambled over from the garage, rolled up his furry shirtsleeves (metaphorically speaking) and offered his services.
He started out by bolstering my self-confidence with an onslaught of love and kisses. This guy is quite the passionate little soul.
He wound up in my arms, a happily purring boy. Not a whole lot of work was getting done.
Then we got busy. Max takes his work seriously. His duties appear to have been to pack down the potting soil in the pots with his hefty butt. He did a good job of it.
He moved from pot to pot with the confidence of one who knows exactly what to do and how to do it.
Eventually we were finished, and Max was able to rest from his mighty labors.
First, a bath...
Then, stretching out for a well deserved nap.
Good Max!
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