Seriously? When did Tweed grow this mustache?
Of course, he is not very intimidating with that piece of grass on his tongue. It kind of ruins the whole effect.
Besides, he could never be as terrifying as the dastardly duo.
You can just totally tell they are plotting something. Something evil. Something, possibly, involving a dead, rotting fish. And may I just say that the stench of dead rotting fish + two wet dogs in the morning is particularly unpleasant when one is mildly (or a lot) hung over.
I had one of those mornings where when I woke up to see the sun streaming through the window shades I was extremely resentful of its bright happiness. I almost would have preferred some windy rain, so I would have an excuse not to go outside at all. But there is only one tried and true remedy for a red wine hangover:
This is the face that makes me feel like the opposite of wanting to vomit.
How can you just not feel instantly better when that’s what is dancing around in the early morning sun in front of you?
Dexter, OTOH, is getting on my nerves. I have never had a dog who *STARES* at me so much, and for such prolonged periods of time. He is either asleep, or he is staring at me. Even when he was giving my sister, who visited last night, big full body hugs and cuddles, he was staring at me.
Every. move. you. make. I’ll be watching you.
I’m starting to feel like I should be bustin’ out the jazz hands and entertaining him with some tap dancing or something every blessed second of every waking moment of every goddamn knock it the eff off staring at me day. If he were a person, he’d probably get arrested for stalking me.
So to escape the staring or a little while, I trundled myself off to the agility trial down the road to see what was shakin’, and left Starey Von Lookypants and his gang of merry misfits at home. We didn’t enter this trial because I am, frankly, kind of tired of trialing at the moment. I’m actually just a little tired of agility, period. I tend to get a *teensy* bit obsessed with stuff (now you know where the dog gets his obsessive staring from) and forget that it’s just supposed to be fun. Recently I realized that I’m not having that much fun running Dexter in agility, which could mean that I need to take a break for a bit and try and remember that it’s just a silly game and sucking at it isn’t the end of the world.
So I mosied over to the trial to say “‘sup” to my pals. And because the universe hates me, and likes to f*ck with my head like that, I got Tweed’s Expert Standard Bronze ribbon that he’d earned at his last trial without me knowing. Ribbons just make me want to try harder, so that was just mean!
But oh so pretty :)
Hitler dog controls your obsessive tendencies.
You heard the man. Dance, bitch. Amuse us.
It’s hard not to be happy when the sun is shining, and you have a big extended family :)
Even if you have to exile one because it stinks like dead fish. But he’s cute from a distance.
Happy weekend, ya’ll!