Bone-chewing. Better yet, bone-chewing in front of Rug-Pisser when he doesn't have his own to chew on. He's an okay kid, really, but he's got some nasty habits. The snapping, for instance. He's like IceMan from Top Gun doing that stupid chomp thing in Maverick's face before he leaves the locker room. Wait, how do I know that? Jungian archetype, I suppose.
Licking. Groooooming. All while guarding my bone from the RP. Hey, the fur on my front leg tastes kinda like that bone I was just chewing...no, wait, that was just aftertaste. Gets me every time. Mmmm, what's this back by my butt? Ah, tastes butt-tastic. Oh, time to give kisses!
Begun as a creative outlet for The Typist -- who loves having a dog this smart but is still glad I don't have thumbs -- this blog may include forays into religion, United Methodism, spirituality, idealistic thoughts and prayers...basically, stuff that probably wouldn't interest your average dog.
About Me
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RevGal Big Event Friends
Blog Friends
- Red Heeler Ranch (Zorra and Amie)
- Molly & Sam's Thumb-Haver
- Molly's Own Blog
- Josie and Boudreaux
- Scout got her own blog!
- Cletus the WonderMutt's mom
- Rowan the Dog
- Grendel the Misanthropic Dog
- Cheesehead's Tanner
- Whistle (a cat!)
- LittleManKitty (also a cat!)
- Tiria, Shadow Princess (another cat!)
- BabyDog Bandy
- Uncle B
- The MethoBlog
- Jasper Dog
- Our Methodist Blogger Profile
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