Wasn’t Me!

I didn’t pull out a big chunk of Dexter’s ruff whilst chasing him around the property.  Nope.

I didn’t pull back your fitted sheet on your bed and tear apart your memory foam mattress cover while you were at work.  Nuh uh.

What do you mean “Who peed on the area rug 3 feet from the pee pads?”  Why are you asking me?

I dunno who put a big nose smudge on your camera lens, so get outta my face.

Hey everyone!  The Food Lady wants to know who has been making Sock Nests out of her laundry while she is gone every day.  Anyone got any ideas?

Thank doG for Zylkene … Winter’s anxiety has been kicking itself into high gear for the last month or so, so back on the Zylkene he goes.

But who brought home an itty bitty faux border collie when she didn’t want another dog and now thinks you’d have to pry her from my cold dead hands??

Oh wait … that was me.

How freaking cute is this?  Fae (because she’s a Pixie, one of the fae folk for sure) is about 9 months old, and weighs 10.5 lbs.  She looks like one of my dogs might if I’d accidentally tossed one in a hot wash and then the dryer.  HOW IS THIS MUCH ADORABLENESS POSSIBLE???

She is obedient, housebroken, crate trained, and snuggly as a teeny weeny fleece blankie.  Oh and she’s feisty too!

STUPID CUTENESS!  I HATE YOU!

She is learning to play fetch and likes it!

And she is fearless – she’ll take on anyone.  Even hillbilly teeth!

Gah.  I hate myself!  Because even I, adopter of more dogs than Addy digs holes, knows when to stop.  I know I don’t want any more dogs.  EXCEPT I WANT THIS ONE!!

She’s just too much.  TOO MUCH!  ALL THE EVERYTHING!

Big fat le sigh.  I’me getting her spayed next week and then she’ll have to find another home.  After which I will throw myself across my bed (sans brand new memory foam mattress cover), tuck my cold, sockless feet (which have just stepped in pee on the area rug) up beneath me and sob myself to sleep (while tenderly touching the bruise on my eyebrow bone).

Why do I even have dogs again??

Oh right, because this:

and this:

and this (though the lipstick is a bit off-putting):

And of course, this:

It’s Adopt A Shelter Dog Month.  Adopt a dog and bring some furry four legged joy into your life!

adopt a shelter dog

(or, you know, Ender)

Weird Week

TWooie went out hinting* rabbits yesterday (*not a typo: he does not “hunt” so much as he races through the bush barking like he saw something, when we all know he saw nothing at all) and came back like this:

“This,” in case it is not clear, is his leg stuck through his martingale collar. (And in the background, his siblings are laughing at him).  I have no idea how he gets himself into predicaments like this.

Pssst … wanna know a secret?  Come closer … it’s cuz he’s DUMB.

Well Wootie, I wouldn’t be flappin’ my yap about dumb, if I were you.  You are not exactly the pictorial dictionary definition of poise yourself, Pumpkin.

Who sits like that?  And who drools mud down their chest hair?

Ooh!  OOH!  I know, I know!

(^in process of swallowing a walrus, rhinoceros or other really big creature that would require the ability to unhinge his jaw)

In honour of Talk Like A Pirate Day, Dexter wants to tell you the bone-chilling tale of Blacktongue.  It’s a story used by parents* the world over to frighten their children**
(*parents= dog owners.  **Children = BAD DIGGING DOGS).
It goes like this:
If you insist on digging ankle sized holes in the yard with your itty bitty little feet and pointy little teeth
Your tongue will TURN BLACK AND STAY THAT WAY!
What?
The end.
Is that really for true?
Oh bless Tweed.  He was much sharper before age robbed him of his wisdom.
Not that the young ‘uns are all that smart either.  If the younger generation were smarter than their elders, then this would not have happened:
squirrelking1
Right about now you’re scratching your head and saying in your best Marty Hart voice “I just want you to stop posting odd shit.”
Odd shit indeed.  As part of Weird Week, these five sibling adolescent squirrels fell out of the nest like this … with their tails knotted, matted and tangled together.  The Hydra of Squirrels, if you will.  SCATTER THIS, BITCH!
An ACO tried to solve the Chinese Squirrel Puzzle in the field but didn’t have enough hands.  Or gloves.  Squirrels bite like fury.  So he brought them to us at work.
Where we all grabbed a squirrel and let the Health Tech do her thang.
squirrelking2
Free at last, free at last.  Oh lordy, we’re free at last!
squirrelking3
Took a good 20 minutes.  My job is so WEIRD.
Ender is weird too.  He looks like someone lit a firecracker under Mr. Burns.
And Dexter is just, you know, Dexter.
What can you do.  And anyway, he keeps Tweed young :)

Whatchoo Talkin’ ‘Bout, Willis?

This is the face of Suspicion:

Buuuut, this is the face of FUN TIMES!

And this is the poster child for Aftermath:

On this weekend’s agenda – more fence building.  Either building fences is a long, laborious process, or I have the world’s biggest yard.  Either way, it’s not quite done yet, but we’re almost there!  One more section to go, but that section happens to be overgrown with tall grasses and I just could not convince my arms and blisters to weedwhack that length this weekend.

Also, it’s insanely hot outside, and the dogs and I had to spend some quality time enjoying the weather before it turns ugly for the next 700 years / until next Summer.

You can tell the weather is still good, because Piper has gotten what has turned into her annual hot spot, and my annual shitty shave job chasing it up her back.

hotspot

Where do these come from?  She hasn’t been swimming at all this year, so it’s not like she’s damp under all that hair.

Either way, it does not stop her from having a good time.

CRAZY good times.

This summer, my dogs have been stung by bees more times that I can recollect.  In all our years of living here, not a single dog has ever been stung by a bee, so it was sort of mystifying, until I discovered that my neighbour has started beekeeping.  I found dozens of hives on his property the other morning.  I think this would also explain the swarm box in the tree at the back of the property from earlier this year.  Thankfully none of the dogs has unusual reactions to stings (unless shrieking / shaking / twitching / throwing oneself on ones back and crying is unusual) so it’s not been a very big deal.  Just, so many bees.  So many bees they are photobombing my dogs!

Dexter is the only one I haven’t noticed getting stung (not that he would stop running long enough for either of us to notice) but I think that’s just because even bees fear The Insanity.

Spring has been stung, but she brings it on herself by chasing the bees.

Sometimes I really can’t believe Spring and Winter are related:

But even though he is a colossal dork, one of my very favourite things about Winter is that he shakes every piece of food I give him before he eats it.  At dinner time I give him a turkey neck and he stands on his hind legs and shakes it “to death” before he gets down to the business of consumption.  It’s been making me laugh every day for almost two years.  So he’s got that going for him.

I had a delightfully uneventful weekend of puttering and chores, and now I have 10 undelightful irritating canines nagging at me for dinner, so I have nothing awesome to write about this entry.  Instead, I invite you to enjoy some more photos of my dogs being them.

(especially Tweed because, you know, he’s Tweed)