The Tree Dawg

About The Tree Dawg

An August storm here announces itself with a wall of dust, comes down hard for twenty minutes, and leaves the streets steaming. The morning after is when the cottonwoods tell on themselves — a split limb hung over a fence, a leader leaning where nobody wants it. The Tree Dawg takes that end of the yard: pruning, limb and branch removal, whole takedowns, canopy thinning so the next wind passes through instead of pushing, and the debris hauled off. In a valley where shade is never a given, keeping the old trees along the Spring River corridor sound is part of keeping the town livable. Ground raked, sawdust swept, driveway usable again before dark.