5am Sunday morning, this little boy woke us all up. Yes, a boy!
Hallelujah, so much easier and cheaper to fix.
cuter than a button:
Yeah, he's cute. They always are. He was stuck in the grass outside of our fence, making a ruckus. We considered calling him Xmool, after the grass spines.
Rita watches :
Everyone thinks he's swell. Shirley and Greta say hi:
He likes everyone just fine. The kitten thinks he's fun to bully. He has a white spot on his butt shaped like the Pentagon so we've been calling him Rumsfeld. I hope that doesn't stick.
a kiss for Zasu:
This morning Sean went his run with 11 dogs (the picture is from yesterday) -all off the leash the whole time. On the beach, across the roads, through the woods and back home. Pretty good, eh? :
We were just about to bask in a well deserved moment of pride about their steadily improving behavior (this ain't magic people) when ...what does Sean hear? Heavens to Betsy, Rumsfeld has a sister. What do we do? If we leave her she'll soon be dumping unwanted litters on the beach, just like her dear old Mom.
She just got here this morning and has been doing a lot of sleeping. Looks like she may be tall. sigh She is beautiful though.
Truman, Maldita and her brother say hi:
Maldi and Rumsfeld (help me out here, this poor pup need a better name!) wrestle while sister (Tuesday?) sleeps:
Maybe we can find them homes but I'm not holding my breath. I know they are garbage dogs to most people; they're not up to breed standards and they don't match the drapes. Pretty much how I feel about most people.
Rumsfeld contemplates the arrival of his sister:
