Animal House

Cannoli helps Josie with her reading. The Babysitters Club is a big favorite.

Angeline is not impressed. She prefers T.S. Eliot.

 

Sisters?

Could be. We all dress formally . . .

In your dreams, Bailey. You are but a dog and we are cats--the apex of creation.

Oh.

                                                                                        

The Kittehs Are Glad There Is a Gate

I don't know, Angeline. The Woman has no discrimination. That Domino dog is wearing a shirt and pretending to be a Dalmation and they are all of them Out Of Control.

Well, Cory, I just say Thank Bast for the gate that keeps them out there.

 

Doggy Daycare

                                                                                    

Justin and Claui's dogs often show around lunch time--which is when we feed our three their main meal of the day. Otter and Domino are on a different schedule. . . but the begging is so intense that John fixes 'snack' bowls for then--half a handful of kibble- and removes them to the porch to avoid comparisons.

It makes for a crowd in the kitchen. But there was a time when we had two (large) Old English mastiffs plus assorted other sizable canines. My sister-in-law was visiting and as she negotiated her way through the dog jam in the kitchen in search of morning coffee, she said, "Vicki, you don't have too many dogs; you have too much dogs."

These two think it's still true.

Sisters From Different Mothers

                                                                                    

Everyone's an Art Critic--Bailey Update

Bailey removed two of my watercolor efforts from the shelf where I'd left them between some books and proceeded to chew on them.

She doesn't know much about art, but these were to her taste.

                                                                               

Bailey's come a long way from the fearful, mangy-looking critter John brought home. She'd evidently never been in a house and had to be dragged in; now it's her favorite place, especially the kitchen where food falls on the floor and there are often things to pre-wash.

She's a happy girl. We still have to chaperon her on walks as she's not yet spayed (and still reluctant to get in the car, plus we're reluctant to traumatize her when she's doing so well,) but she goes on walks without a leash and knows what Go to the house means. The crusted dirt and skin condition she arrived with were so bad I thought sure she had mange, but baths with special shampoo from the vet and fish oil on her food, along with daily brushing, have done the trick. She looks really good now.

She gets along fine with the rest of the pack.

That includes Otter who, on weekdays when her people are at work, always drops in for lunch.

I hear Jayna and Sandy asking What about the cats? Not a problem; she's pretty sure, given their tuxedo coats, that they're cousins or something. But I don't have any good pictures.

She's a sweet girl who's found her home. 

I didn't like those watercolors anyway.

Subscribe Here!

 

Coryat calls your attention to the newly restored subscription widget in the top of the righthand column. (Which is different from the old one but evidently all that Blogger offers now.) Several folks have told me they were no longer receiving the daily posts via email.

I haven't a clue why this happened, but I've put the widget back.

Bob says it's easy to do. He gets all his favorite blogs via email.

Shiny, the captain of the goldfish, is encouraging his gang to sign up.

Jenny is asking John to sign her up.

And the ever-reclusive Angeline, is totally uninterested.

Bob Bob Bob Bobbabobbob

This is Dave. Josie named her. Dave used to crow like a rooster but then she got in touch with her feminine side and laid 15 eggs in a nest she made in the hay shed. 13 hatched and are doing well.

When I was taking pictures down at the pond a few days ago, there was a great deal of mooing going on. Penny, who is a new mother, was calling her calf which wasn't to be seen.

That's John and Justin up on the hillside, looking for the calf. Justin spotted it under the multiflora rose just below him.

He got the calfie (whose name, I'm told, is Farthing) out and headed down the hill to Penny.

Bobabull the father was magnificently unconcerned.

Bobadog was delighted to help. And mother and child were together again.

(We have decided to name all the chicks Bob too. Because we know how happy it will make our friend Bobaguy.)

The Woman Is Out of Commission

Here and There

 l