Now is the winter of her discontent
Made glorious by this season of spring;
And all the clouds (and snow) that lowered upon her house
In the deep bosom of the sunshine buried.
Forgive me for misquoting Shakespeare, but Cocoa is the picture of contentment lately. She's spending her time sunbathing by the birch trees and sniffing the perimeter of the yard. All is right in Cocoa's world.
All is well in the Keweenaw.
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