This picture was featured in Katzenworld’s Tummy Rub Tuesday!
I’d been prepared to drive Flick 125 miles north to San Jose to have a veterinary cardiologist take a look at him. But the plan changed.
Spoken words don’t count right?
I’m sure anyone with pets or children have one. Probably not written down but somewhere in the back of our minds it’s lurking there, The Worry List: who of our companions to be concerned about the most and why. It will change over time and as circumstances change. Here is my most updated:
As I was almost out the door to work yesterday I realized that he hadn’t moved from the spot he’d been sleeping in since at least last night. Getting worried, I picked him up to get him to move around a bit.
Marsha does serious and silly with equal ease.
Hershey liked going to the river. When we got to the top of the berm the first time she went with her buddy Rex, she stood stock still and stared. It was probably the most water she’d seen in her life to that point (subsequent trips to the ocean would change that) and she seemed boggled that such a glittering, meandering thing could exist. An unhooking of leashes, and a race down the hill later and she was chest deep in it, romping with Rex.
I’d thought about building a cattery for my cat family (Mama Kali and grown babies: Ivy, Morpheus and Percheron) almost as soon as I had moved into my current house in 2001. It was always “Oh, that’d be so cool. The cats would love it so much!” what finally spurred me to action wasn’t the coolness, or the wow factor, it was more of an Ugh factor.
Last Sunday I heard there was some sort of Significant Sports Event happening (the Mega Cup? Souper Spoon? Something like that.) Because of this I hatched a cunning plan.
Assuming there was a significant overlap between people who like sports, and people who like to play in the snow, I had the idea that there would be considerably fewer of the latter because they would be, or be getting ready to, watch the former. This would leave the dogs and I a considerable area to play in the Sno Parks (yes, that’s how they’re spelled) up in the mountains without any, or at least very few people around.
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