Rusty is six, and is… ambiguous. To say the least. Rusty is probably part German shepherd, and might be part hound. His dad calls him a ‘German hound’, anyway.
The first time I ran into him, Rusty had just gotten back from the beach.
I think this may be the first picture of… this sort… that I’ve ever published.
And here’s when I ran into him again a couple hours later. All dry and suave again.
I was talking with someone the other day and I mentioned that I was thinking of retiring in a really big luxury RV, and driving it around and seeing North America, and then when I got tired of that, getting it shipped to Europe. And she thought that was a fine idea, but asked, “Why such a big one?” And I said, “Well, it has to have plenty of room for the dog and the cat, doesn’t it?” And she said, “Were you planning on taking any humans with you?” And I thought for a minute and then said “Maybe that too.”
It would, of course have to have built-in cat furniture.
The trick would be making sure the cat didn’t escape. And that nobody suffered from car sickness.
The nights are getting longer, the days are getting shorter, and there doesn’t seem to be an immediate end in sight. Sometimes you just have to flop down and refuse to get up until someone starts petting you.
Anyone in the market for a Lab mix, only slightly deflated?
Two Murphys (Murphies? Murpheys? Murphi?) in a row? Yeah, I know! But I had to post this Murph today, because it’s his fifteenth birthday, and I can’t miss that when the dog in question is the former mayor of Chestnut Street (now retired to a more rural life). How exactly is that? Well, he used to live right near Chestnut Street, and when he did, he pretty much ran the place. All the shopkeepers knew him, all the restaurant owners knew what he liked. He even had — and still has! — his own bar stool at Izzy’s Steak and Chops. Each of the bar stools is ‘reserved’ with a name plate for some august personage who visits the place, and one of them is his. There were a couple news stories about him, which I’ve seen in shop windows in that area, although I can’t immediately find them to link to them online.
Despite his age, and despite two ACL surgeries, one in each hind leg, and despite arthritis, Murphy is still quite active. His dad attributes this to ‘CBD’, which I assumed was ‘Canine B-something D-something’ but apparently has something to do with medical marijuana, and hey, if it works, I’m all for it. And it does indeed work, because all the pictures I got of him except this one came out all blurry.
“Happy birthday dear Muuuuur-pheeeeeeee…” (And hooray for Lab/pit hybrid vigor!)
Murph was visiting a local dog park with his sis Penny on one of our now-vanishingly-rare rainy days, and was having a lot of fun splashing around.
Edit: Okaaaay… I thought I hit publish yesterday. Maybe not? We’ll try again.
The goatee makes him look distinguished.
We haven’t had a good ‘flat’ nose-shot for a while.
Her shirt says something like ‘Be A Besty To A Bully’.
Someone did herself an injury. Poor little pup.
Doesn’t look terribly happy to be in there, does she?
I ran across this in the city last month. And then the next day it was gone. And then the day after that I ran across it a couple of streets away.
For those who don’t feel like zooming in, the sign on the door says “DO NOT DISTURB or we’ll kill you” and it is held up by flowered happy pretty-color tape. The stickers in the window say “MAKE MARIJUANA LEGAL”, “Prevent Overdose, Save Lives. www.drugpolicy.org”, and “LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA”.
So is the name ‘Breaking Worse’ already taken?
Well, look at that: I came back. And so did the cat. Although it wasn’t the very next day, quite.
That little moving thing is on the end of a long springy thing.
I kind of like the way the cat is flowing like water in this picture.
Kind of burnt out after this whole election, and the not-getting-home-until-10 thing doesn’t help. I’m going to take a few days off, and will see y’all either Friday or Saturday.
She can heal with a kiss if you’re feeling sad. She’s frequently naughty but never quite bad. And she wants to go walkies whenever you’re free. Yes she’s cute and she’s fuzzy and always a Lady to me!
No? Well, it’s a Billy Joel thing, you wouldn’t understand.
Lady’s a good-sized Aussie. I see so many tiny ones, even ones that weren’t bred to be miniature, that it’s always nice to see a biggun.
Pretty right eye, half brown and half blue. Just a gorgeous pup in general.
One of the little parklets where they use fish meal on the grass. It smells a lot like lunch.