My poor little blog has been terribly neglected of late. Partly because all of a sudden it seemed like I had four things happening at the same time, partly because I couldn’t think of anything amusing enough to share, and partly because every once in a while the furballs demand I spend less time writing about them and more time grooming/playing with/feeding/walking/treating them. One thing I’ll say about this herd --- they need never speak English, as they are quite clear about the nature of their demands as it is.
Anyhow, as some of you know, Bad Kitty Bo turned the big 14 on Saturday. It’s hard for me to actually wrap my mind around that fact, especially as he’s as bratty and imperial as ever. He and Muse have a new favorite hobby: trying to catch the rat that has taken to running across the top of the chain-link fence that separates us from our neighbor’s yard. There is ivy filling in the spaces between the links, and it appears that Ratticus (as we’ve come to call him) has figured out that as long as he’s skimming the top-line he’s safe from capture. It’s more fun than it should be watching the two cats snap to attention and go into full-on stalking mode when he peeks his fuzzy little face out.
Meanwhile, Darby continues to be his ridiculous self. There just isn’t any other way to say it. He is the goofiest dog I have ever, ever, ever owned. One day he is so charming and well-behaved that he barely resembles the dog (I think) I know…the next day he’s back to defending his Doodlebug crown with every goofy ounce of energy he’s got. Then, just about the time I’m ready to duct tape his little feet to the floor to stop him from pestering the cats / starting fence war number 37 with the dogs in the corner / getting under my feet for the seventh time in 10 minutes, I get this:
And there is peace once more in the valley…