Every time Sweetie our 3 year old English bulldog gets her flea meds put on her she pouts for at least an hour. Her sign says I am mad at my mom for putting flea meds on me.
Sam likes to join me while I work around the kitchen, and goes strait to the floor vent next to the kitchen table. Then, she licks to her heart’s content.
Sachi thinks everything is his to chew. If it’s on the floor, it’s his. If it’s on the table, it’s his. If it’s. If it’s chewed, it’s ours. But we love him more than anything!
When the delivery man from the Chinese restaurant arrived, I blasted past Mom in the doorway, leaped off the porch, and ran out, happily, to greet him. He started screaming in Chinese while Dad chased after me.
4 days after being spayed, Osita gains our trust without a cone only to sneak away every chance she gets to nurse her wounds…not anymore.
We are still trying to housetrain Mop, so we bought the carrier for her to sleep in at night. Something small and cozy. Thought she’d love it, not eat it!
When my mom leaves me at home by myself, I find one of her Birkenstocks to eat.
This is Phoebe, a two year old Papillon. She loves to give French kisses and can slip you the tongue even with your lips tightly closed. She will also do the same to your nose.
This is Buster. He is terrified of puppets. I think he actually believes that they are real. Real scary.
Went to visit my parents yesterday evening. My mother, being the sweet human being she is, had a plate of at least a dozen cookies sitting in the centre of her kitchen table. We all stepped outside for a few minutes, but we left my golden retriever, Josie, inside. Josie is a perfectly well-behaved house dog, never acts up of gets into anything she knows she is not supposed to. Upon going back in, we discovered an empty plate on the table, crumbs directly in front of Josie, while she sits there with a big ole, cookie-eating grin on her face.
The plate that is hanging on her neck just so happens to be the plate that her evening snack was on.