John Carlson: Nothing’s Finer Than ‘Feeding the Robins’
By: John Carlson— It’s my morning ritual, one Nan calls “feeding the robins.” These are hairy, foul-breathed, four-legged robins, however, with glide ratios any competent aeronautical engineer would measure at about 1:1, meaning they would soar through the sky like anvils. They are, in fact, dogs. Our dogs. In feeding these “robins,” I first grab a handful of cookies and a cup of coffee and, depending on the weather, carry them out to the back deck or to my recliner. Then I slightly dip each cookie into my coffee and take a nibble of it myself. Then I divvy the…
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