And not before time...
You know what? I am so used to Gail arriving home from holidays empty handed, I could not believe my deep-set little eyes when she placed this super toy on the front doorstep and said it was for me.
This was such uncharacteristic behaviour on her part, I began to wonder is she and her friend Marse had been filling up with something other than petrol (sorrry, 'gas') on their travels in the Pacific Northwest...
Of course it all became clear when I was told the gift was actually from fellow terriers Wyatt and Tegan, and delivered via our esteemed blogging friends, Murphy and Stanley, whom Gail met (along with Bob and Carol) a couple of Sundays ago at Point Defiance in Tacoma.
Thank you so much Wyatt and Tegan!
Gail tells me she and Marse had such a super hike together with the Doods and family, and Carol even succeeded in educating Marse's pup Josh in the fine art of posing for blog photos.
(You can see more photos of the meet-up on Murphy and Stanley's blog today.)
Now my friends, perhaps you can help resolve a wee argument I am having with Gail just now. You see she has come home with a ton of photos and a mistaken belief that she should be allowed to post some more of them on my blog later in the week. But surely this is most unfair as I was locked up in 'camp' for the duration, without access to a camera or phone?
We have negotiated a provisional agreement that at least every other holiday picture Gail posts on this blog should feature a dog or other animal, and that shots involving bicycles should be kept to a minimum. Themes to be covered covered will apparently include wildfires and smoke, Mount Rainier, Gail learning how to cook s'mores, and installation of a coyote roller...
Does this seem fair to you?
Showing posts with label Josh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Josh. Show all posts
Monday, 18 September 2017
Wednesday, 2 September 2015
Double Standards
So Gail consigns me to prison for over two weeks (and no Madi, it was not ‘camp’ and I did not develop any new craft skills nor learn 'fun' campfire songs) and then she has the temerity to complain that I am “a bit smelly, well actually more than a bit” when she comes to pick me up.
Like she was all fresh as a daisy, still in her travelling clothes and unwashed after a sixteen hour journey overnight.
Oh yes, and worse, when I arrived home I detected a distinct whiff of OTHER DOGS emanating from her dirty laundry bag.
On further enquiry I learned that her American friend Marse lives with these two rescue pups, Josh (part dachshund, part Labrador, so Marse was told) and Liddie (more credibly a corgi/ King Charles spaniel cross).
Gail was apparently not the only person to have observed Josh’s brindle coat and queried the story about his parentage. Another friend of Marse’s had earlier noted that certain of the less scrupulous rescue centres in the USA will tell prospective owners a dog is part lab when they really mean part pit bull…
Anyway, you will pleased to know that both Gail and I are now bathed and groomed, the laundry has been fumigated, and I have reclaimed sole rights to my errant owner.
Like she was all fresh as a daisy, still in her travelling clothes and unwashed after a sixteen hour journey overnight.
Oh yes, and worse, when I arrived home I detected a distinct whiff of OTHER DOGS emanating from her dirty laundry bag.
On further enquiry I learned that her American friend Marse lives with these two rescue pups, Josh (part dachshund, part Labrador, so Marse was told) and Liddie (more credibly a corgi/ King Charles spaniel cross).
Gail was apparently not the only person to have observed Josh’s brindle coat and queried the story about his parentage. Another friend of Marse’s had earlier noted that certain of the less scrupulous rescue centres in the USA will tell prospective owners a dog is part lab when they really mean part pit bull…
Anyway, you will pleased to know that both Gail and I are now bathed and groomed, the laundry has been fumigated, and I have reclaimed sole rights to my errant owner.
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