Effervescence

Do all old dogs burp a lot?  Not sure, but Andy sure does.  Not only does he burp like a man, but he will wake up from a dead sleep (we are never sure if he is sleeping or taking the big sleep) just to sit up and burp.  Good thing he's cute.

The Art of Play

Happy is recreationally challenged.  She doesn't like it when the other animals play, especially if it involves growling or wrestling.  When we blended our animal furmilies a couple of years ago, she all of a sudden had a dog-sibling that loved to play.  While that drove her crazy, it also sparked her interest in playing.  We started to hear her bouncing around the living room after we went to bed.  She has an affinity for tiny toys.  Her favorite was a rubber duck that was not much bigger than a pencil eraser.  She would toss the duck in the air and try to clumsily catch it.  "Try" being the key word.  It's amazing that she didn't swallow the damn thing!  What she lacks in finesse, she more than makes up for in enthusiasm.  Her current favorite toy is a dirty sock.  If we miss the hamper and a sock ends up on the floor, we will catch her playing a solitary game of fetch with the stinky object.  You would never believe that this bounding fool is almost 10 years old!

Gas Masks

To borrow a prayer from one of the sisters:  "Dear Jesus, please help this stink go away quickly.  Amen."

After yesterday's birdseed buffet and the ensuing gastrointestinal mayhem, we apparently didn't learn our lesson.  We woke up this morning to spit-shined floors.  It actually took a little while for us to realize that anything was amiss.  Then we saw it.  Under the dining table was evidence of recent destruction.  Just a couple of shredded plastic baggies and an open plastic container that USED to contain a variety of homemade holiday goodies.  Not a crumb left.

These bastards have no shame.  Even though our house is uninhabitable due to toxic gas, and the yard has numerous piles of soft-serve poo, they were still hungry for dessert.  At least they didn't eat the sugar cookies...yet.

Rotten Roni

Today's post is from our guest blogger and sister, Rose.  Rose and her hubby, Thomas, are the masterminds behind the beautiful creations at Bittersweet Designs.  They currently share their studio apartment in San Antonio with two Boston terrier/ pug rescues - Meatball and Pepperoni. 

Revenge of the Pizza
 
Roni found some rotten pizza on the ground the other day and had to surrender to the mozzarella monsters in the middle of the night. He stood on our heads until we took him out to poo. Guess our boys have made it to middle age!

Roni and Meaty

Bad to the Bone

Our dogs are badasses.  That's right.  Don't mess with them, because they might eat your face!  Okay, maybe only Jack will.  Old and young dogs in our house are no match for Sir George Boogers.  Even our breast-fed (by her Papa), home-schooled, not-just-a-princess-but-she's-the-fucking-queen takes second seat to a four-pound kitten.  She drools on the floor while Boogers eats her food.  We are sick people who enjoy making her wait to eat while he chows down.  The little snot doesn't even back down once Sky is given the okay to eat.  Boogers is bad to the bone.

Unsolved Mysteries

Does your home suffer from unsolved mysteries?  Ours does.  Over time, we've solved a few of them - like when food disappears off the counters, it is most likely our counter-surfing pup, Sky.  Especially if it is carbs that vanished.  She is truly our carb hound.  And, the others are a bit too dumb to know where to find the good food.

Every once in a while, we have unexplained happenings around here.  Like yesterday, when a mysterious, lone turd was found in the hallway.  It was fresh, soft, and a bit smaller than a cat ball (the toy, not the reproductive part).  Did Jack decide that he really doesn't like the snow, like his last family warned us?  Did a dingleberry fall from Andy's hairy butt?  Did one of the cats do it and try to frame the dogs?  Where is the rest of it?  Do we have a poop-eater in our midst?  We may never know the answer.  Shit happens.

Sky, the carb hound

Don't Let the Boogeyman Get You

Around our house, nothing is safe.  We have a new kitten, Sir George Boogers, and the boogeyman will attack anything that moves - or doesn't move.  This morning, he was hiding under the bedskirt and attacking Happy's feet.  When he wasn't in "under covers" attack mode, then he was blatently attacking her tail.  Of course, we just encourage Happy to wag her tail and enjoy the entertainment.  It's a great way to start the day, for us at least!  Happy doesn't seem to mind much, either.

Oh, Crap!

We got up and let the dogs out this morning.  Anderson was quick to run around the house and want back in.  A few minutes later, he had pooped on the floor.  He is a traveling pooper, so he left four strategically placed turds on the floor - one for each dog in the house.  I guess he was hoping to spread the blame.  All the other dogs looked guilty when we came back in the house after shoveling the driveway - except Andy.  They started dancing around the turds like it was a pow wow, while we tried to turd-herd them away from the mess.  Andy didn't give a shit - well, he gave us four shits.  Got to love old dogs and their poor sphincters!

Happy

My mom put a curse on me back when I was a teenager.  She told me, "I hope you have a daughter just like you someday."  Ha!  I just won't have kids!  Wrong, I got my curse in dog-form.

Happy is ridiculously goofy, uncoordinated, stubborn, sweet, and one hell of a playground monitor.  She can't stand it if one of the other dogs growls playing tug-of-war, or the kitties wrestle.  She will come and try to break up any perceived fight.  This foster-failure is an absolute whore for attention and knows how to work a room.  Please don't wear black clothes when you come visit.

 

Anderson

Anderson is a forever puppy.  At 13 years old, he is still muppet-like.  He has been mistaken for a black bear on more than one occasion.  When he gets his annual haircut, he is a chupacabra.  These days, he keeps the couch warm and collects leaves, branches, and snow every time he ventures outside.  He is better than velcro.  Even kittens stick to his fur.