charlemagne

It appears I'm still here for a few more moments, anyway.

I'm convinced this pup of mine is a bit psycho. In addition to burying his doggie bisquits in the dirt beneath the maple tree, under couch cushions and the Pennsylvania Dutch chest, he also buries them, along with his chew toys, in the kitty litter boxes. I suppose there is a special piquancy in a well aged bisquit, but alas, when the litter boxes are emptied, all of that gourmet treat is lost forever. Cruel human's! I wonder if Mel Gibson in the Lethal Weapon series aged his bisquits in such a delightful fashion. I'll never know what a treat I'm missing. Or will I? "Here I am Chuck, with my tail wagging, ready to give you a big, sloppy lick on the chops. Aren't I the sweetest crittur you've ever known?" Hmm!

The old dog is still going strong despite hip dysplasia and three strokes. An amazing old guy. Right now he's taking some medicine for warts, and his spirits have picked up a great deal. He's eating everything in sight, which is a good thing, and he's back to bossing the pup.

I've been working in our booth at another local renfair where I can admire the buxom lasses in their naughty bustiers. The world is full of natural wonders. If only it wasn't a little warmer. It got downright cold last Sunday.