I am officially changing TGIF to OMGIF. Too many Fridays have taken the helium out of my end-of-week balloon.
|What remains of a leash and fleece|
When I blissfully crossed the threshold on Friday after my usual hair-raising hour commute, I went to let Mr. B out but could not find his fleece jacket or his leash. Both had been on top of his crate. I immediately gave Lovey the stink-eye, poor girl. After searching high and low, I gave up and he went out nekkid. Just as I was going to let him back into his crate, my eye caught a dark fragment of something. Upon pulling out his fifteen blankies and specially soft padded crate liner, I discovered the remains of the missing objects. If I wasn't so thoroughly PO'd I would have marveled at the physics of it all - how DID he do it?
I dug out the dog Christmas PJs and found Mr. B's is too small. Lovey can still wear hers, and she does prefer them to her hoodie. I think it's the lack of the pootie sag in the back. She looks quite adorable, the little rye loaf.
|The wrinkled tube look goes with the |
wrinkled brow of anxiety.
|Checking to see if I finished my lunch.|
|Always in motion.|
|The Holiday Season|
has officially arrived.
|I call these "Mood" cookies|