Ever take a quick tour of your estate after your humans have retired for the evening and set your mind to wondering about the array of "stuff" that is laying about?
Take this, for example...
Here is but a small sample of our dog walking gear. Frankly, I think a simple leash is sufficient, but apparently an endless assortment of dorky hats, gloves, mittens, and reflective gear is required.
Now Momma claims that all this stuff is out to dry off after some rather uncomfortably wet walkies, but yours truly knows better. She is just too lazy to put things in their proper places.
Note to momma - if you are out walking me in the rain and suddenly decide that you need to put your hood on - don't! Foolish woman. You should have heard her squeal when all that cold wet water she had collected in said hood rushed down her backsides.
The humans are a simple minded lot who resort to notes left hither and yon to remind them of tasks which need to be performed.
Not sure the intent of this one. I have heard complaints that I am overly enthusiastic during training exercises. Of course it is all too obvious that were the lazy witch to walk me more frequently and with just a tad more vigor, I would be calm as a cucumber.
This one has me confounded. I understand the need for a respirator (spell much?) as the Master is currently engaged in paint spraying at the project house.
However, what is the meaning of "horses?"
How about this one? A reminder to check our P.O. box (which due to her persistent laziness and always "running late" - although if she ever actually "ran" I don't think late would be in the picture - can sometimes go unattended for weeks).
Once a note has been posted long enough to collect dust, it usually gets the ominous "or else" added. Not sure what that threat entails and its effectiveness is questionable.
Look at this! Momma's comfy chair table. Yes, friends, those are holiday cards. Which means they have been there without motion for almost a month. And isn't it about time to retire the rather unsightly Santa mug for the season?
Then of course there is this....
Quick! A photo of my labraself to cleanse your viewing pallet.
P.S. I am beside my labraself with frustration over my broken dew claw. It seems that the rubber bootie was not up to a rough and tumble chap like me and it broke after just two days. The replacement bootie that the Master purchased was too big. So now I am on a no tennis ball and no daycare regime having demonstrated that vigorous tennis ball action results in, well, blood. Momma has mentioned something about a sock and duct tape. Sigh.