After last week featuring the Reggie shedding alpaca photos, I did manage to get a brush to him:
And here he is the next day:
Here's Buddy in one of his spots:
Here's Bingo in the yard, when I call her:
"I didn't hear you."
Here's Bingo & Buddy running around the yard:
He sees something:
In The Boudoir
Buddy on the T.U. rug under the bed skirt:
Better lighting with Buddy:
More yoga on the back porch:
I love how his ears spill onto the deck:
I walk into the living room, and this:
I woke him:
Oh, he was all back 'n' forth!
Here he is, pointing!
All Tuckered Out
|Zzzzz . . . .|
And here's Tabby:
He's sitting on the console I have as his feeding station. See the scratches on the left corner? That's from Buddy trying to get to the cat food. In the early days of him being here, he would Roo-roo! in frustration as he was trying to get at it. As if to say, "Help me get up there! I smell something to eat!" Anyway, Mum saw the scratches and said, "Oh, dear. Are these scratches from Buddy?" She already knew they were from Buddy because then she said, "He's so NAUGHTY!"
Speaking of Buddy, last Friday morning he woke me up at 4:15 a.m. scratching at the door. Now, I'm an early-getter-upper, but I really prefer 5:30-6 a.m. And as I'm lying there trying to discern if he really has to go . . .outside, or if he just wants to go backyard hunting, Reggie comes in and starts licking my feet. So I get up and let Buddy out because he really might need to go, and I don't want a mess to clean up. He's been so good about not going in the house, I don't want to jinx it.
As I'm standing there at the back door, I'm trying to stay asleep enough to go back to bed, but awake enough to monitor Buddy. Well. To his credit, at least he didn't bark. But he was not out there to do his business. It took me half an hour to get him in and it necessitated me getting on my shoes (again--awake enough/asleep enough). And I had to walk out to him, because he wouldn't come when I called him. [Insert eye roll from Mum with comment about training.] As I approach him, he falls to the ground, like a toddler who doesn't want to be picked up. He just goes all limp; it's like lifting a 30-pound noodle.
But then we get back into bed after his early-morning adventure, and he gets all snuggley and cuddles up. Silly beagle-boy. :-) HAPPY Monday!
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