It’s not as if I never clean the glass, but…
…and Badger, sulking because I’m using the iPad on the sofa. She won’t come near it for some reason.
Nose Prints
Cuteness in a Hairy Package
Can’t deny I think my dogs are cuteness taken to the nth degree. Here, they’re watching a vehicle pulled up outside -the person inside obviously making room for someone to get into the passenger seat. They were absorbed by his every move but never made a sound after he first pulled up.
Our neighbor came out and got in the car and it pulled away. Silence. But they relaxed.
Badger is much more cunning than Daisy about the whole people coming and going thing. I’ve watched her wait until someone comes up the drive, navigates the side walk and at the moment they reach the door she goes full crazy dog. This activates Daisy, who adds to the general clatter of barks. It’s an uproar.
But… as soon as I reach the door it stops. Well, Badger stops. Daisy is feral, so crazy keening is her stock in trade. By that time Badger is at the door beside me, ready to meet friend or foe, mouth firmly shut.
Cute.
Bree Bear
This looks like any other crafted bear, right? It’s not. O.D. makes special occasion/bereavement bears so she made one for Breagha, who passed on August 5, 2019.
The outside is made from Bree’s favorite bandannas and inside Tonie put her favorite pink Wooba toy and some of her hair.
Yes, I broke down when she handed the bear to me; Bree is finally home again. And now, after not dreaming about her, she’s there when I sleep. I’ll cherish this little bit of Bree as long as I live.
Thank you, O.D.
Around the Garden
I’m calling my yard a ‘garden’, if that’s alright? K.
Perhaps I need a third crepe to name ‘Love’. A red one!
So, the yard guy doesn’t know that Purple Heart is a valuable member of the garden community. Either of them! I am bereft, but they’re tough little monkeys; I’m sure they’ll be back soon.
She is actually tearing the rock apart. Daisy once ripped a lawnmower to pieces. Tires, rubber thingys that hang down, etc… We thought it was so incredibly cute we let her do it.
That’s who we are; enablers.
I’m currently working in the front. So far I’ve pared a bed of areca palms by half. It’s hot, nasty, ant riddled work, but satisfying. Pictures to follow. Of course.
A Hunting Dachshund
…is a happy Dachshund.
The little auld lady, a.k.a. Her Majesty Queen Daisy, 13 years old, goes in for the kill. Er… up, rather.
Spying on the Neighbors
Yep, it’s a mess out front but my back is bad at the mo.
It’s My Birthday
One year ago tonight I took Bree on her last car ride.
It’s been a long, bad year. Other than that horrible night I’ve not mourned her, pushing everything down deep.. so far down I couldn’t feel anything. Then a week ago I was cleaning the house, listening to music (some of us dinosaurs still have iPods!) and James Taylor’s Never Die Young started. I didn’t notice, until he sang “…take the sky, forsake the moon…”. And I collapsed into a weeping rag. You could have done anything to me at that moment; I was immersed in grief, not reality.
Younghaven’s Take the Sky, a.k.a. ‘Breagha’
Guess you’re really gone. At least I can cry for you now. I will forever miss you and forever look for you everywhere, as if you’re only just out of sight.
Fat Corgi, Nekkid Dachshund
What’s really funny is that I can never get her belly hair, so it’s always wafting away down there… along with some of the foot hair because Queen Daisy is a diva and doesn’t want her feet touched.
pamibe 