Copper and Charleston

Here's a picture of Copper, taken in October.  He took his job very seriously--watching the street for people who, according to Copper, had no business there.  He'd drag a blanket or an old robe out to the street for the night to be sure he didn't miss any.

Because Mike had made reservations for three nights in the Meeting Street Inn in Charleston, he wouldn't hear of canceling his surprise.  He left Mojo attended to by all the friends and neighbors around Brown Mule Farm.   On this early morning, he awoke thinking of both his dogs, his constant companions, and he was sad.

Yesterday we took a mule-driven carriage tour (he insisted on mules, not horses)  through the city and learned about the architecture and history of Charleston. We walked through the Slave Market (now an open-air market for crafts) and talked to basket makers and jewelers and other craftspeople. We had a delicious lunch at the Charleston Crab Cafe.  He petted every dog and every mule in the city.