Skip the treeman

It's not a directive, it's a person. A person who is as big around as he is tall. The dogs and I met him and his Jack Russell Terrier last week while walking. We were walking, they were riding. His tree company was removing downed trees and limbs (I've been calling them branches - incorrectly. It's like that time I learned from the lamp salesman that they're not called light bulbs, they're called lamps.). According to the truck, they specialize in problem trees and stump grinding. Got an oak testing its limits? An impertinant pine? Call Skip. Well, Skip thought it was pretty funny to roll the window down so his JRT could bark at my dogs as Skip rolled slowly past us, three times. Finally, we came upon them after they'd stopped so we got to spend some time with Skip and his dog. She was a very friendly girl and promptly came over to the dogs to receive her due adoration. Skip was very interested in Quentin, thought he looked like a good squirrel dog. Told me he had twenty-five head of dog himself. Skip's buddy agreed about Quentin, thought he could get good money for him. There's good money in squirrel dogs they agreed. And that's when Skip took a long look at both my dogs and laughed and said, "Looks like they git plenty ta eat." So do you, Skip, so do you.