My Dog
My dog doan bark.
My dog doan bark.
That dog bark.
His dog bark.
My dog doan bark.
He doan…..
My Dog
My dog doan bark.
My dog doan bark.
That dog bark.
His dog bark.
My dog doan bark.
He doan…..
1995
Ed the Cat-1997
Ed just came back from the vet. He walked through the door with a mean look on his face. His tail is twitching and he’s looking for someone to beat up. It’s a sunny day so we’ll soon see him in the garden stalking birds. Fortunately, he’s not as fast as he used to be and catches very few. He and Rose are still good mousers, though, and keep the space around the house pretty clean. Some years are bad mouse years and this is where all the fussing and feeding of cats is worth it. The only mice that get in the house are ones the cats bring in live, drop them on the floor and, after playing with them a while, perhaps look away for a minute and forget all about them. Then we have a scared live mouse hiding under the chesterfield.
Actually one of these ‘immigrants’ discovered the bird food and managed to survive for quite a while. The bird food is in one of those plastic storage things with the sealing top and the mouse fell right in. When feeding the birds, we just dip a cup into the seeds and spread it on the feeder. The mouse, although his horizons were somewhat limited, was in heaven and was only discovered when it was time to get new seed. We released him to the great outdoors and I can only imagine how this chubby little rodent survived when he was forced to find his own food.