Updates and running commentary from our critters

This popped up in my Fb memories today :cry:

The Dude as a perfect pretzel. What a sweet boy he was :broken_heart:

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My snoozy love of my life, Sam, 2004-2018.

He’d do this over and over and over.
He;s hitting a loveseat.

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Finn being Finn. He’s about two months from his second birthday and (lIRC) the last time my daughter weighed him he’s close to 90 pounds. So when he gets the zoomies it’s Bull In China Shop time.

He loves to wriggle around on his back and gnaw on a leg, and sometimes his tail.

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He’s adorbz!

And your post reminded me of this funny/weird clip:

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That is weird. “WHO’S TOUCHING ME?!?!

Wonder if dogs can have multiple personality disorder.

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I feel the same way every time one of our pets (I’ve had both cats & dogs) would attack or chase their tails. Are they not aware that this very vital part of their body is… well, part of their body?

Cognitive dissonance in a walnut-sized brain?

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But look what they do with that walnut-sized brain. Exhibit 1: we have to work. They’ve figured out how not to have to.

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Monkey boy was velcro’d to my side last night :smiling_face_with_three_hearts:

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Love the paw position!

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He makes everything right in this world, if only for those short moments.

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Portrait of a young man, sulking in a ketamine haze after his semi monthly trip to the vet to express his glands. :scream_cat:

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I went for my 9, 723rd Covid booster yesterday (so it seems). Kudos to the pharmacist - I didn’t even feel it. Except today, of course :joy:

Went home after stopping at the drive-through for a quarter pounder (of course!) and prepared to sleep it all off for a couple of days. I’ve got the drill down pat by now. Had an enthusiastic bed buddy. Being a cat is a full-time, exhausting job. My two split the sleeping tasks.

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Not my critter, but her owlets should hatch any day now. I think I’ll head down to the Wildflower Center and check on her.

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Sounds familiar, though Roxy T. Cat is more likely to be in a gabapentin haze.

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Parker, keeping his dad company this morning!

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My poor little Izzy, when I’d yell at him (usually for knocking something over) he run straight towards me and reach up for a hug.

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And then there was the Far Side cartoon where all the dog heard was Blah Blah Blah Ginger (the dog’s name).

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When I meet dogs named Ginger, I always blah-blah them. At the dog park once, I did this, then asked the owner if the dog was named after the comic. She was.

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