|Hey Ma, where are the carrots?|
Last night, I called Harley to no avail. I had to walk within 20 feet before he acknowledged my presence. But it took Vance's interest in my carrot bag to get him to move. Once Vance headed my way, Harley came at a trot--he's not going to miss out on a treat. When I left, I stopped at the bottom of the hill to give Harley a good night pat--he wanted more carrots.