Daisy would have been 17 today. Happy Birthday, Little.
17
Daisy is Gone
She would have been 17 next week, but we couldn’t wait any longer. She was the most obstinate, humorless, vicious little thing; we lost count of how many times she bit Mike.
But we loved her. Mama’s little is at the Bridge, fighting with all the other dogs.
Two Years
I’ve never remembered death dates before my Dad passed… but today, he has been gone two years. Miss you every damn day, Mac.
On a different note… here’s Daisy. She’s flipping old, as if you couldn’t tell. 😉
Oh, she’d had a bath two days before this picture… she just looks dirty. Must be the beard.
View… with Teckel
I was absolutely beat last evening so decided to stretch out on the sofa… but the view was energizing.
Don’t know why I’d pulled the blinds and drapes both back, but it made for a nice reflection…
Tall Grass
Has anyone seen our yard guy?
Big bada Boom
I hate fireworks. Not a city or county’s organized exhibitions – or even a rock star’s pyrotechnics – but the absurd dynamiting done by my neighbors.
If annihilation is their ultimate goal, the idiots made a good start last night. My house shook several times.
The noises used to be fireworks, sparklers for the kids, things of that nature.. and even some gunfire. I’d like to tell them that what goes up ultimately comes down…
The exceptionally loud noises had nothing to do with pretty lights in the sky. I cannot understand why they favor them… as they probably would never understand my viewpoint.
My stance? I was huddled in bed with two terrified dogs (Daisy has never cared – until last night) and a Navy veteran who thought the sounds were very much like being depth charged by a Russian sub.
I am not fucking amused.
Welcome…
…or not. Daisy would rather sleep, thank you. 😉
pamibe 