Bigfoot, aka Captain Conehead, has beat the heck out of the Collar of Shame. Last night, I had to grab him and shake him slightly to stop a full-on puppyfit of running, rolling and slamming into things as he tried to rid himself of the collar. Flannel Jammies, aka "Mom," got upset with me for calling it the Collar of Shame. She says I will give Bigfoot a complex, and I should call it the Collar of Healing. No matter how much I explained that only *deepen voice* baaaad dogs */end deepening* pester their ears until they have to wear the Collar of Shame, Mom refused to believe that Bigfoot brought this on himself. Next vet appointment is tomorrow night at 5:15, if anyone wants to cross their toesies for us.
Meanwhile, Littlefoot is blowing coat and leaving giant tufts of fur everywhere, earning his nickname of "Jiffy Pop Butt" (thanks, FSO), and reminding me to never, EVER again get a long-haired, double-coated dog. If I were cleverer, I would write a comic book about how Captain Conehead and Jiffy Pop Butt save the world from evil squirrels or something. Since I'm not, I'll just vacuum some more. *sigh*
Gardenwise, I've got all but the last nine plants in the ground. This weekend, I'll edge the new round bed in the front yard, and put in the white and pink plants I'm planning to fill that bed with. The phlox, canterbury bells, white balloonflowers and daisies are here, then this fall, I'm going to save up and buy a bagful of pink and white daffodil bulbs from Breck's to fill in, along with achillea, daylilies, carnations and hollyhocks. I'm thinking it will be very pretty when I'm done.
3 comments:
Got to keep sucking the cosmos of its photosynthetic psychic energy so the rest of us get none, right?
Keep up the bad dirt mantra, someone might believe you.
Listen, missy, I have flowers that didn't make it too.
You have bad dirt and MommaJammies has all the photosynthetic pyschic energy.
So there.
Captain Conehead and Jiffy Pop Butt isn't a comic book - its a 70s rock album!!
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