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A day in the life of Lucy.
I playz hard.
Woof.
I pwotectz da Mumma, Daddy, and my big brover.
I makez sure my Daddy getz upstairz safewy.
I snugglez my Daddy.
I teazes my Brudder all da time.
I sleepz wiff my Mumma on da couch.
Night, night.
Where beez da sun?
Da Momma sez dat if we getz much more wain we willz need an awk.
I habn’t gotted much chanz to wearz my hat and doggles wiff all ob de wain we habz.
I wishes dere waz sum way to send sum ob da wain out west weres dey needz it more.
If I beez lucky tomowwow I will getz to go foah a walkiez in da pawk. Mumma sez we will if we don’tz habs more ob da wain.
Lucy is silly
You know your dog is relaxed when she’s been sound asleep, lifts her head to look at you, and her tongue is sticking out a mile. *Giggle*
Nice to see how a year in this house has her happy, relaxed, and full of herself.
She does a wild hucklebutt in the living room at least once a day, playing pinball off the couch and the chairs.
She greats the next door neighbors with a wagging tail and plenty of kisses when she can get them.
She’s completely adopted her Auntie G and scolds her if she forgets to give her a cookie when she comes in.
She sticks her head under her brother’s blanket that covers his crate to tease the crap out of him when he’s napping.
Yeah, I think she fits in fine here.
Lucy sleeping
OMD…more?!
Okayz, dat iz it! Two nightz in a row ob da mean nasty thunder boomer storms is enuff.
Diz one tooked our lights away for hours!!!
Mudder Nature needz to settlez her azz down!
Sabe me fwom da nasty thunder boomer!!!
Momma waz berry worried dat with the AC shutted down Daddy would hab trubble, but it came back on before it gotted too hot in da house for him.
Poor Gavin
Our poor old boy has always been a nervous wreck at the Vet’s office, in crowds, and in new situations. He’s our worrier, our “thinks too much” dog.
Yesterday he had his six month check up. He doesn’t mind riding in the van as long as when we stop we are at home. We weren’t, we were at the Vet’s office. I left the van running, the AC on, and on the radio/cd/mp3 player some Israel “IZ” Kamakawiwo…
I went inside to let them know we were there.
Shortly after that I went out and got him. He did not want to get out of the car. I had to coax him with a cookie. I swear he blew enough coat to knit another dog while we waited.
“Meany moopants Momma taked me to the dogtor. I don’t likez to go dere eber. I stickz my tongue out at her.”
Numz are good
How old are you?
That is the question I hear from The Curmudgeon occasionally. Is it any wonder? I wear silly socks, play with toys, and spoil the crap out of our dogs.
Yes, I admit it. I still manage to collect a few Bull Terrier items from time to time. Who can resist a sledding bully? Yes, the tall one is a Pez dispenser, I am a Pez addict from way back.
I’ve been known to stick my tongue out at people. Frequently. I do skip on occasion. I will color outside the lines. I can still make a mean cushion and blanket fort, and whatever you do, do not turn off my cartoons.
You all have a good one.
A bobble headed surprise
The Curmudgeon’s poor bobble head bull terrier fell apart into little pieces. He loved that thing. He had it in his truck for like forever.
I went hunting and found him a new one–well actually two. I ordered the last two Amazon had. 😀 Will he ever be surprised. Shhhhhh!
You all have a good one!
Close encounters of the Bull Terrier kind
This is for Linda.
Over the years, my body has taken great punishment from our bull terriers. Cement block noggins to nose or face are common. Heads rammed into shins and other tender places too.
One time Malcolm stepped directly in front of me at the top of the back porch steps while I was carrying a tray of hot dogs outside to put on the grill. I didn’t see it coming, he never crossed in front of me like that before. Need I say the hot dogs never made it to the grill? I fell over my knee-high road block, flew far enough forward to land half on the lawn and half on the concrete sidewalk without knocking myself unconscious.
My hip slammed into the concrete so hard that I had a hip to knee sized blackened bruise the likes I’d never seen before and hope I never see again.
The Curmudgeon was on the second floor roof and didn’t hear my cries for help. Malcolm did, but he was too busy snarfing down hot dogs to care. Thank goodness my next door neighbor heard me and came to my rescue and helped me to my feet while I took inventory to see what body parts sustained damages. As luck would have it, I didn’t break anything.
The culprit.
Living with Bull Terriers, an owner’s survival guide.
First thing you must do to survive life with a bull terrier is hang on to your sense of humor. If you can’t laugh, then you most certainly will not survive.
Buy cheap furniture so you don’t develop an attachment. Bully owners lose more furniture to their dogs. Yes, I have lost a bent wood rocker, a few sofas, and several chairs to ours over the last 33 years.
If you really love the item, it will have a short life span. They will chew, knock over, break, smash, crunch, maim, anything you think you treasure. Buy replaceable items, do not waste your money on anything that is not mass-produced.
Never say never. “My dog never……..” They will make a liar out of you every time.
When least expected, they will trip you, knock you down, or in some way injure you. Always keep ace bandages and crutches on hand.
Do not believe anything that tells you a toy is indestructible. They will find a way.
That innocent look does not mean they are innocent, start looking for what they’ve destroyed.
Anyone else have some survival tips? You all have a good one!
Can anyone help?
******EMERGENCY ALERT*******
Beck has been found!!!!
Doggonedmysteries 