A Dinner Guest!

Well, The Boy and I had an early supper last night, because the thumb-havers had the pastor over. He smelled like church, so that was neat. But we got put outside while they ate so we wouldn't be tempted to nose around the table. Bummer. Because you know I would've. Anyway, he loved me; everyone does. I think he had fun watching The Boy in all his glorious oddity, too. He left with several of DogMommy's prized Muppet DVDs, so obviously he's cool.

Sticks and their uses

Okay, if you ask me, sticks are for chewing, or chasing, or tossing around to taunt The Boy when he doesn't have one. But for The Alpha and DogMommy, they are apparently for rubbing against the wall, because that's what they spent quite a bit of time doing last night. Sticks got dipped in a bucket, then the stuff they pulled out of the bucket got slathered on the walls of that room we never use. I can't really tell any difference, except now the whole room smells like bucket.

The good news is after they finished with their stick-playing, they took The Boy and me for our walk.

Lazy Sunday

Ahhh, the floor. The air conditioning. The box fan I'm lying down in front of. The silence, because The Boy has followed suit. Dog days of summer, indeed.

Here's a cute picture of The Boy and me, from not-long-ago, that I'm finally putting up. I do think the distinctive markings on his hind end are worth showing off in such a fashion.

Not enough walks!

After days of no leash sightings, The Boy took some protest action last night. DogMommy was at church - again, without me; what's that about? - and The Alpha was on the phone for a verrry lonnng time. So, The Boy decided he'd play with the padding in the dog bed. And by "play," I mean reach into the spot where the seam has come apart and tear out the foam in various sized chunks, gleefully carrying it throughout the house. Whoo, he's really good at subversive action. But, apparently the phone thingy was really important, because The Alpha only took one break for a scolding. DM came home while he was still talking and deposited a great many foam chunks in the trash can with the lid. Translation: no more playing with that, thankyouverymuch. And The Boy didn't get to sleep on what was left of the bed last night, either. No matter; he crawled underneath their bed and had a fine time playing CaveDog.

Visitors?

Okay, so I admit I'm so busy playing with The Boy and knocking the love seats out of their usual dents in the carpet that I haven't been paying attention lately, but I keep hearing "coming over," so hopefully that will be soon. They brought out that roaring monster they call the vacuum cleaner the other day, which usually means visitors.