I realize it’s difficult to understand what’s going on in that crappy photo, so let me narrate.
The scenario: Wootie gleefully rolling in the dead fish. Me screaming “Stop that right now! I SAID STOP IT! STOP IT STOP IT! Cookie? I WILL BEAT YOUR BRAINS IN WITH YOUR OWN DEFORMED SKULL YOU MORON, NO ROLLING!!” More gleeful rolling in the dead fish.
FINALLY, he figured he was well coated and decided to come get his cookie. But alas, he was bad, and it came back to bite him in the face. I don’t know what kind of fish it was, but it was longer than Woo and had Really Big Teeth. One of which snagged in his scraggly mane and wouldn’t let go. So when Woo tried to come back, the fish came with him. The dead weight fish that would not release him from its jaws.
The result: Wootie screaming in terror, trying to escape the fish trap. Me rolling in the mud laughing until I cried. Hence the just one shitty photograph.
But I was bad, so it came back to bite me in the ass. While I was rolling on the ground, Piper skipped down the hill to roll in the dead fish too. It released Wootie and they both returned, stinking of dead fish. So I had to bathe two dogs this morning.
OTOH, two dogs had dreaded baths this morning. Ha. Ha. Ha.
TWooie was bad to a mole, so it came back to bite him in the mouth.
TWooie doesn’t believe in merely digging for moles, when scooping the earth out of the way with his mighty jaws adds an extra, powerful tool to his hunting resume. But moist soil out here has the consistency of peanut butter, which means he gets loads of mud stuck to the roof of his mouth.
It clogs up his jaws … so the mole got away. HAH!
I must have been bad, which is why the Chicken Gods have decided to visit retribution on me by hatching out roosters in my neighbours’ flock. I was awoken today by the sound of many roosters heralding the still-far-from-arrival dawn. On my day off.
But then again, I must have been good, because I have the World’s Best Puppy.
Blue is a little slicky from Yakima. He is some kind of border collie mix, dunno with what, and the resident dog where he was living broke his jaw when he was a bit younger (it seems to have healed up just fine) so his days were definitely numbered in that house :( Because we have wonderful and caring volunteers in our network, Mike and Marian saved the little feller (and 9 other dogs!) and drove them all over Hell’s Half Acre to get them into foster homes yesterday. And one of our lovely volunteers on this end scooted down to Seattle to collect the little guy and bring him back up here. Thanks Alexis!
Blue is the Best Puppy In The World because he slept through the night in his crate without a peep, from 9pm last night until 8AM this morning when I finally dragged myself from my rooster-interrupted coma. He then promptly peed on my area rug when I opened the crate to let everyone out to pee, but it’s a small price to pay for this much cuteness.
He has one eye that is almost all blue with a sliver of brown, and the other is all brown with a sliver of blue. He’s built like a brick shithouse, but he’s a big wussy. Right now he is playing with some puppy friendly toys in my bedroom and crying because he wants to come in the living room, but Scary TWoo is in here.
I like him lots, but he’s heading off this afternoon to foster care with Dana, because I have Max coming to stay over Christmas, and if I kept both here TWooie’s brain would start exploding like popcorn.
And in case I don’t get a chance to post again before Christmas (I work on Christmas Day … someone’s got to feed the dogs and cats and bunnies at the shelter!) I wanted to wish you all the very best Christmas EVER, because you’re the best blog readers a gal could ever have. You all deserve really awesome presents!
Happy Holidays to all my friends!