Perfect Happiness

My dog. Perfectly happy. With mud.

Teddy thinks she's HI-larious.

Breakfast, Hold the Tiffany's

When there is quiet and my Bear and pooch are hanging out in the same place there is almost always some kind of shenanigan going on.
Like this.
(Anybody with a healthy respect for hygiene might want to look away now or risk being traumatized.)

1. OK. It's too quiet over there.


2. Huh?


3.

Well of course. Of course you're eating cheerios off of the floor in the grubbiest spot in the house. And naturally you would completely lose your wiggles when I try to return the cheerios to the bowl.

4.

because leftover cheerios belong in mamma's boots.

Sammiches too.

Where, Where, O Where?

Hey you know what our soft furnishings really lack?
Scatter cushions? A cuddly hand-crocheted throw? Scotchgard protection?
Close, but no cigar.
Desiccated bull penis?
BINGO.
But don't worry, Dilly has that situation covered.


But where to put it? Where to put it? Where where where?

And yes, golf claps at my genius sweetie for giving the dog a dried shlong.

Poke Here...

This is how Dilly mostly sleeps; it's not terribly ladylike.

I have trouble resisting the softy fuzz on her tummy, Teddy does not. That is, he doesn't bother resiting.
He will spot her, all splayed out, snoring little chubby-dog snores, and sometimes twitching her paws in pursuit of giant dream squirrels.
He will grin wildly, hop from foot to foot, then race over to her chanting "deee yeee dee yeee dee yeee".
He will stop right next to her and very gently poke her in the tummy, then wait for the kissies. The first time he did it Dilly startled about a foot off of the couch. Now she heaves a huge sigh and gives him the kissies he is after then moves away to find a less baby prone spot to nap.

Sometimes Dilly...

Sometimes Dilly is an International Dog Of ACTION, competing in pooch triathlons (the disciplines are leaping through long grasses, hustling squirrels and swimming in icky stagnant waters)
but sometimes she is NOT...