We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Here. What's the big deal? It's your own yard, and it feels cheerful and wholesome to have the summer breeze blowing past your private parts. And why is anybody looking anyway? Keep your eyes to yourself. What goes on in my yard, stays in my yard.
For Santay, Sasha threw on some clothes for the photo, while taking a break from lawn-mowing and dead-heading the roses in the most charming manner.
Who cares for your gardens in the nude? Or am I just lucky?