The summer has trickled nearly away. For a few weeks I’ve been avoiding here and some other places. I’ve worked on some things and stayed on top of the laundry. I’ve gone through photos. I’ve had some good talks with my husband. I’ve been crying a lot.
Everyone else around here has been up to no good, as usual.
This one blundered and launched off of my husband during a poorly placed Cat Wrestle Mania + Surprise Ambushing Dogs. The Roll swears it was an accident.
Jut had to go back to teaching with some of these, which eventually bruised and looked awful.
This one has been busy playing with tennis balls and plastering herself (blissfully) against Jut/Jut’s laptop whenever possible. Like this.
And this.
And this, which I believe is a mixture of ecstasy, creepiness, and too much catnip.
Cab continues to act/look more like a cartoon character than a real dog.
He also continues to be an idiot, and the opposite of sneaky. Here he is, fully believing we do not realize he has been dragging around one of my shirts.
Meanwhile, Monk continues to use Cab’s giant rump as a pillow.
I haven’t been feeling very well, physically or mentally. I’ve been looking like this, and sometimes the blue wall in the bedroom feels like the only safe place in the world. It’ll pass, it’ll pass.
But I like the blue wall in the bedroom.
While the blue wall is safe, the bed is not. Because of this goblin (on my belly) and that tubby jealous jerk:
If you are wondering if they do this nightly, and if what shortly follows is usually a swatting/scratching/hissing match ON TOP OF ME, you would be correct. If you also wonder if Monk sometimes gets involved, adding 100 percent more danger and excitement to bedtime, you would also be correct.
Love,
black sheeped
