Bryon has a food plot planted with turnips back behind a nice patch of cedar trees on our land. Our trail meanders through our woods then dumps out into the turnip patch. There are deer tracks everywhere out there and lots of little purple turnip shoulders crowned with bright green tops are peeking up through the dirt.
I guess they are irresistible to deer. And apparently dogs as well.
Belle pulls one up by it’s green top almost every day when we walk by the patch. She carried one all the way home today and ate it up.
I don’t mind her eating turnips. It was the dried cow patty she carried home and wanted to bring into the house and the deer foreleg where I drew the line.
I don’t even want her kisses anymore. I know where that mouth has been.
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