Bed Hog.

Recently I bought the hooligans a new bed. They used to have a blue one that Frieda and Jimmy bought for them, but the Yorkie wouldn't quit behaving inappropriately with it, so I tossed it. You just can't unsee some things. Even Frieda used to gasp in shock and say, "You're a naughty fraulein! That is very unladylike!"

Tasha was the first one to take to the new bed. I figured she would, bc she will literally lay on anything, hoping to make a snoozing spot out of it. It can be a piece of lint, and she'll sniff it, turn circles, and faint dead away in slumber on top of it.

She looked so cozy, I thought I'd take her picture.

 
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And then the typical thing happened when I started snapping photos of Tasha.

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By the way, see that look? It says, "The brown doesn't do it for me."

And I'm totally okay with that, fraulein.

XOXO

Sophie loves the Yorkie.

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And the Yorkie loves her back.

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Sophie also loves Tasha.

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And Tasha loves her back.

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Yorkie love can be a little persistant sometimes…

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But Tasha love comes at you in all at once…

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(I wouldn't do that if I were you…)

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Of Bumblebees and Zombies.

Halloween will soon descend upon the Stewart home, which means I'll drag out my brushes and sponges and ruin perfectly good makeup, digging into it maniacally by the gobs and gooping it all over my little girl's face. It's something we both look forward to every October 31st, actually. 🙂

This year, the doggies will be joining us in the costume parade. Tasha is most definitely on board…

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Why so grim, Yorkie? Why, you remind me of myself, every time I have to pick up your carpet gifts. Gosh, seeing you this way takes a little of the sting out of all those times for me.

I hope your Halloween is a fun one! And although this next diptych doesn't fit here at all, I wanted to share it with you anyway. I had fun with Bean this past weekend when she visited, and I begged her to let me take pictures of her in the new hat her boyfriend's dad brought back from his business trip to Paris.

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We'll see you soon!

Goodbye, Sweet Boy.

Ten years ago we brought our sweet Friday home. A farmer had a litter of Golden Retrievers he wanted to go to good homes, so Mike and I and my parents all decided to head to his barn and bring home a couple of puppies. Mike and Bre and I decided that whichever one we got would be for Sabrina's birthday (it would be a surprise for her). Major waddled up to Mom and Dad, and Friday wriggled his way to Bre.

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Sabrina was overjoyed, of course. And since that day, she and Friday were as close as a dog and his girl could be.

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He grew into such a sweet gentleman…

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And what a handsome boy he was…

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He was such a good sport whenever the girls or I would get in a silly mood…

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…And he refused to outgrow his lap-dog mentality. Once, on a walk with Friday, I stopped to talk to a neighbor who was sitting on the warm cement of his driveway, enjoying the weather. Friday promptly took the opportunity to sit all of his 111 pounds onto the poor man's lap, and I could barely see my neighbor behind Friday's tall body. When I finally got Friday to stand back up, I was relieved to find my neighbor was quite good-humored about it, even though he almost got his beer knocked over.

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In the past few months, Friday had become more tired, and had a difficult time getting up. He also lost his hearing, so when he'd go outside, I'd have to jump up and down like a crazy person to get his attention so he'd come back inside.

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Whenever Bre would come home, she'd shower him with lots of love and say, "Hiii, Fridayyy!" in such a cheerful voice, it always made me smile. And of course he'd roll on his side for her and relish all the belly rubs.

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He loved listening to Bean play her guitar…

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Since Sabrina couldn't come home from school, Sophie had become a very good care-taker for Friday. He had started growing weaker, and didn't want to stand up to eat his food, so she would do her best to help him out…

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Yesterday we made the heartbreaking decision to have Friday go to sleep after watching him decline so rapidly this past week. Sophie had taken such good care of him in Sabrina's absence that Sabrina wanted her to be there, and asked us all to say goodbye to him, and to tell him she loved him. Of course we did, and I scratched Friday in the same way Sabrina always did when she was here.

Mike and I carried our boy into the vet's office, and after spending some time with him in the quiet room, the vet came in to tell Sophie she was doing the right thing, and that she was loving him the best way possible by letting him go. He was suffering so much, and needed to rest.

Sabrina, it was very peaceful. He was ready to sleep, and he knew he was loved.

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We love you, sweet Friday.
August 2, 2002 – September 21, 2012

Facebook

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I'll think about it, okay Tasha?

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For those of you who have "liked" my Plum Street Samplers Facebook page, I just wanted you to know that I'm in the process of updating it and adding all those photos that should have been added long ago. From now on, you can find news of my upcoming releases both here on my blog and over there. 🙂

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Seven Sins and Nine Lives

Tilly has become quite spoiled living here. So spoiled, in fact, that I sometimes catch her in embarrassingly gluttonous situations when she thinks I'm in another room in the house.

Witness, if you will, her shame…

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So caught up is she in her greed, she cares not that I'm watching her…

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So I leave her to indulge herself bc I can't, in good conscience, look on any longer.

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But when I return, she's only gotten worse.

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I really should intervene and do something about this, or I'll find myself dangerously close to envy slothfulness.

Tills.

I used to think I was more of a dog person, but lately I'm starting to think I'm a cat lover. Tilly has been visiting since Bre has been on Christmas break, and I tell you, every time I see this little sweety, I feel happy.

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When I say, "Hi Tills!" she actually meows in answer. It's the weirdest thing.

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And she loves to antagonize the Yorkie. It's one of her favorite things to do, as a matter of fact. Here she is, perched on the Yorkie's old spot on top of the couch (snuggled in one of Sophie's t-shirts)…

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And since the Yorkie finds Tilly to be extremely disconcerting, all the Yorkie can do is sit by on a not-so-comfy chair and take it.

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And as soon as Tilly is occupied elsewhere, the Yorkie eagerly resumes her position on the back of the couch.

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Lately, the only time Tilly will allow the Yorkie to have her old spot back is when she hears me switching laundry loads. For some reason, this silly cat loves the dryer. She watches me unload it, and as soon as it's clear, she settles in.

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She igores my pleas to vacate the dryer so I can get on with the laundry, so I usually end up piling damp clothing in around her to show her I'm serious about the eviction.

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She also loves it when I play on my iPad. Recently I couldn't figure out why my screen wouldn't scroll, and when I looked down, her paw was resting on it, preventing it from responding to me because it was busy responding to her.

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The poor guinea pig in Soph's room also finds Tilly to be extremely disconcerting.

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As I was taking down the Christmas decorations this past week, she made herself at home in a garland laying on the floor, hiding herself  from a certain pooch. Clearly she had plans brewing for making the Yorkie wee in fear.

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The oblivious Yorkie approached…

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…And this was all I was able to capture of the skirmish:

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Tasha, on the other hand, is not afraid of anything. She dreams of the day when Tilly will let her stand this close to her without a screen door between them.

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Poor, friendless Tasha.

Tilly doesn't care for canine exuberance, so she stays as high up as possible when Tasha's tanking through the room.

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She does, however, like Friday.

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And like I said, I really like her.

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Sweet Tilly. Bre sure knows how to pick them.