Chico and I are going to Texas, to San Antonio where my brother and sister-in-love live, later this month. We’ll drive, and make it another Can I Bring the Dog dot com road trip, and continue on to the West coast again.

In preparation for being good guests wherever we go, we’ve added a new routine, or as Chico thinks of it, game.

This game is named Brush the Dog. The idea is that if I brush Chico every day, less of his hair will end up all over my house, my clothes, my car, and those of the folks we visit, and more of it will end up in the brush.

Step one is Chico hops up on the table in the old chicken shed.

Then I brush him until the brush is full of hair. And while I peel his hair out of the brush and toss it outside for the birds and mice to make nests of,

Chico eats a handful of kibble.

We repeat until no, or not much, hair is coming into the brush.

Then my fluffy dog and I

go for a walk.

Four years ago, when Chico came to me, it was almost impossible to brush him, as soon as he saw the brush (let alone the nail clippers, nail clipping is a whole ‘nother story, possibly worth a post of its own someday), he started playing “you can’t catch me” and when I did, he wiggled, squirmed, and snapped. Not very productive really. Again, patience and treats (OK, call it what it is: bribery) have given me a dog I can live with.