Ours Now

Yesterday was a very quiet day. We have a sick neighbor, so we made extra at each step and sent it next door. The Princess was settled on the loveseat with both dogs, but when she was called away to finish up some baking, Boxnoggin and B decided warm cushions were not to be left to waste.

They even got ham brought to their silly selves, like the spoiled brats they are. But really, look at those faces. Could you deny them anything?

Anyway, I hope your holiday was as low-stress and full of good food as ours. And I am thankful for you, my darling Readers. You’re all amazing.

Here’s to another year of stories. And especially dog stories.

Season Is Now Upon Us

I took this picture before Samhain. Pretty soon, we'll be seeing Yule decorations as soon as July 4 is over.

If all decorations were like this, though, I wouldn't mind. May all the gods bless Archie McPhee.

On My Feet

On My Feet

After a run, Sir Boxnoggin, Lord van der Sploot, is tired and wishes to curl up upon his bed. But if the human moves, he will groan, and when the human bends to pet him, he will spill out of the bed and onto her feet, looking up reproachfully.

Don't go, he'll moan. I just got comfortable. Stay here and pet me.

Poor fellow. I can pet him for a while, of course, and make much of him, but eventually I do have to go shower. But for those few minutes while he's on my feet and I'm telling him what a good boy he is, he's content.

Poor They


Sir Boxnoggin and I found this unlucky bundle of feathers while out running. The crows have already been at them, and Boxnoggin was extremely interested, but I did not let him give more than a token sniff.

Poor birdie. Nature’s cleanup crew has already recycled most of them by now, I reckon. Such bright plumage, on such a grey day.

A Strange Repast

I came out Wednesday morning with the dogs to find out someone had left a half-eaten crabapple and part of a ginormous mushroom on our deck railing, snugged into a corner for ease of snacking. I'm sure whoever left it will return–once the mushroom wears off, that is.

All that's missing is a sign saying "EAT ME"…

Synchronized Sleeping

What you can’t see to the left is Miss B’s own super-fancy office-bed. She and Sir Boxnoggin have reached the stage of acquaintance where they will bask in sunlight with their hindquarters touching, or synchronize their sleeping positions. By the time winter arrives fully, I’m sure they’ll be happy enough with each other to sleep in a pile of limbs and fur, especially since Miss B has the lovely long coat and Boxnoggin runs warm.

It’s a good thing, to have a buddy.

Fairy Ring

Apparently the fairies were dancing in the neighborhood lately. I’d harvest these…but better safe than sorry where the Good Folk are concerned.