Unripe plums and cherry pits

The weather's nice and Joe's been dallying outside more, now at an age where he's content not to be hanging about under the desk.

The cherry tree has tons of red if a bit bitter cherries, the squirrels, crows and other birds are making short work of them and drop the pits on our deck, with shreds of fruit still clinging to them. Joe's never been food motivated (although perhaps that too is changing) but he must have been gobbling them down, with a chaser of rock hard plums.

The effect on his digestive system can be imagined and he had to be rushed outdoors on the hour every hour starting at 3 a.m. After a day of white rice he seems to be on the mend, but unlike the teenager after a bout with Tequila, he hasn't lost his taste for cherry pits so I can't let him out alone.

It's funny because he's been out there for weeks with the cherries, leaving them largely alone and then suddenly they're as irresistible as crack.

He's a few days from breaking the one year mark, so maybe lots will change as this landmark birthday is passed. I'll let you know.