Tweed picks cookies.
You always think the worst of me. Maybe I’ll kill you for that.
So, wow … I was really overwhelmed with your response to Red Dog’s Memorial Post. What a great bunch you are! I am sorry I made a bunch of you cry too … I’m trying to figure out a way to exploit this underused talent and make a bazillion dollars from it. Then I can pay for all the dental work Piper is going to need, after a large metal caribiner hit her in the face and split one of her teeth in half last week (long story, don’t ask).
But I won’t need it for agility entries, because tomorrow Tweed is going to get his last Masters Snookers Q for his Almighty ATCh. Right?
I said, RIGHT?!
I’m not sure. I think my foot is broken. See?
To be fair, Tweed did have some kind of crazy, whine-and-cry-and-limp inducing crashbang with Nate today. You all know Nate as Boomer from our rescue. We had a chance meeting with The BoomBoom today, and he took Tweed down.
Who, me?
Tweed was going to beat the crap out of him for it with a Really Big Stick …
…but Piper and Woo staged an intervention. At least, I think that’s what they were doing.
I don’t know if this happens to you very often, but on a fairly regular basis someone wants to breed one of my dogs to their dogs. I am thinking about traveling with a soapbox from now on, because that’s a topic that can get me on it in a hurry! Today it was the owner of this cute little Australian Shepherd.
She wanted to breed her to Tweed (Hah! Good luck with that. Not only is Tweed neutered, but he also doesn’t like girls. Tweed only likes underage boys, and the occasional pant leg).
I said that there are literally thousands of Australian Shepherds in rescues/shelters all across North America and that breeding your dog to a certified weirdo mutt you meet in the park is probably one of the worst ideas a person could come up with and –
HEY! GET OUT OF THE SHOT, RANDOM DOG!
We are really, really tired of the snow snow snow everywhere snow.
It’s pretty and all
But we are all pretty bored with it now, I think.
Who wants to see grass again?
Me!ME!Me!ME!Me!ME!
Blargh. Stupid snow.
Wish us luck tomorrow! It could be Tweed’s big day!!
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