“Oh we want to go outside! Food Lady we wanna go outside! Let us out! We’re bored :( Come on come on come on!!!”
(relents, as tired of dogs leaping at me)
“Yay! Outside! AT LAST! Now we can lie in the shade of the trampoline and do nothing at all.”
Stupid dogs. It’s too hot to do anything outside! We tried to go for a walk and ended up with dogs folding into the shade of shrubbery everywhere. Even the heat seeking missiles aka Italian Greyhounds lost the war with the sun.
Wootie just evaporated altogether. Heat melts lard, you know.
I almost never see the Iggies panting … even when it’s hot, Ender likes to be under a fleece blankie and Addy insists on cozying up to a hairier dog.
If they’re going to make me go outside in this weather, I’m going to make them work for it!
Actually, I really don’t mind the sun and heat. It doesn’t wear me down, it makes me jazzed to get stuff done. So yesterday I busted out the weedwhacker and started taking down as much of the tall grasses around the lower pasture perimeter as I could, to give Mr. Coyote fewer places to hide.
I enthusiastically took down a huge stand of extra tall grass at the back fence and discovered this:
I think it’s a finch nest, as there was one egg in it also that looks finchy.
I am glad I didn’t take the whole nest down, but I feel pretty bad because I took down all the cover for the nest, which happens to be at dog-nose height. This loosely translates to These Birds Will Be A Snack For TWooie In The Near Future.
He knows they are out there, somewhere.
I now spend all of our outdoor time jumping around and making monkey sounds and standing on my head, anything to keep TWooie from wandering over to the nest, which he is determined to do, because he can hear them cheeping and he really wants to find them.
Speaking of finding birds, my bantam hen … of whom I have seen neither hide nor ha-err, feather in a month or more, came strutting across the lawn this morning to partake of breakfast with the big chickens. I have zero idea where she is living now. She is worse than a stray cat.
And speaking of little birds that TWooie would like to eat, I snapped a photo of one of the peeps a hen hatched out – she has three of them peep-peeing around after her everywhere she goes, it’s super cute!
With my luck, all three will turn out to be roosters.
I picked up for Piper her FAVOURITEST TOY EVER at a thrift store and despite the heat, she was in her glory.
Wootie was NOT allowed to play with it until Piper was tired, because he popped the last one before Piper even made it off the front porch. So by the time he finally had a go, he was maniacal, like a shark in a feeding frenzy.
It’s the most activity I’ve seen out of Wootie in ages.
Of course, he is almost 9 years old – hardly a puppy anymore. And not everydog can be ageless, like 14 year old Tweed.
I’d like to enjoy his old age (as would he, I’m sure) without a kabillion extra dogs around the house. So don’t forget that Alibi is still looking for a home of her own!
As Miss Piper gets older, Springaling is stepping up to the plate to take over Matriarchal duties more and more. One of her duties, she feels, is to make Alibi’s life miserable whenever possible. I guess two female terriers in the house is asking for trouble. So Alibi has to find her own home, before Spring eats her for breakfast. I think the only reason she hasn’t yet is because Spring is fundamentally a nice dog.
I will leave you with a guessing game … what do you suppose this puppy is?
She is about 5 weeks old; someone gave her to some random kid in a park. She weighs about a lb at the moment. Any ideas?