I’ll Get the Dog To Go, Please

In my ever vigilant search for cuteness, I hit pay dirt! Some things just make your day. Someone else getting a parking ticket for a change, finding a twenty dollar bill in your wife’s jacket pocket, when the toilet paper end is folded to a point, I could go on.

This is a lady friend’s new puppy, complete with saggy skin and ungainly legs, not that he will need them, as his favourite method of conveyance is her handbag.

French bulldog cross? Slipped my mind, as my oxytocin levels were skyrocketing. Hazard a guess in the comments. His name? BRUNO. Of course. Don’t feed after midnight.

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Doggy Due

Alpha Fail

Six Million Years of Evolution Has Come to This

At the Kibble Conference

Don’t Know Much About Geography . . .

At the Genius Bar

Why Dogs Sleep So Much

Put Out the Dog

Greta

Say hi to my lady friend, Greta, who lives in the neighbourhood. She’s three. She spends all day on her front porch while her mom and dad are at work. Once in a while, she will slowly get up (not often) and bark at her friends who go by – it is a deep booming bark that shakes the porch. We are in the middle of a heatwave (30-35 celsius) right now, so her services may not be required for a few months. For now, she may be able to get Slurpees for my kids. (if they don’t mind waiting)