|I’ve got my eye on you|
You will regret this, hooman, says Bodine.
You know, cat o’mine, I say. I suppose I will. But it feels good now.
So, I continue. You’ll be keeping [snort] an eye on me, right?
Oh, purrs Bodine. Count on it, chickeroo. You’re certainly aware of the all-seeing and ever watchful eye that is kept near my Striped Tail of All Things Unholy?
The purring gets louder. You will awaken to its gaze upon you one morning.
Roger that, I say. Like I wasn’t, in fact, just today greeted by your feline Eye of Sauron hovering above me at Food O’clock this morning. Surely you can come up with a more clever vengeance for once.
And I immediately regret saying that out loud. I just don’t learn sometimes.
|A scene from the ill fated photo
We’ll be there with bells on
Kinda like this idea for a holiday photo shoot with the dogs. I’m not even looking for perfection here; a simple good enuf would satisfy that tingly need for a Christmas pic of our four footed family. And it was a mere week ago, as we enjoyed the temperate climes of southwestern Ohio, I went at it. Gave it one heck of a try, I did. (click here for We’ll be there with bells on).
All that work just to end up with a bunch of photos of my trio of festive dogs in front of dry brush pile. This backdrop of dead grass and bare sticks isn’t emanating the aura of holiday cheer that I’m aiming for.
Sending Merry Christmas greetings from the Depths of Despair! our holiday cards would read.
But glory be to the Ohio weather patterns. In a matter of a couple of days, we went from temps in the sixties to a finger numbing mid-twenties. Oh, but this is good news. It is. Cuz we got us some snow along with it.
Where just last week I was looking at that looming stick pile and thinking it was something only a match could fix, today I’m trekking through the white stuff that covers all the uglies in the backyard.
Don’t let those expressions of practiced tolerance on their canine mugs sway your opinion. These critters of ours are just dizzy with holiday spirit.
Um, Food Lady? says Micron. We can’t feel our toes anymore.
What are you talking about? I say, refocusing the camera lens. You have feet like Hobbits don’t you? You know, like furry on top and leathery on the bottom? You should be set for another few minutes.
Carry me, says Euka.
|You might want to run back to the house
for a spatula, says Micron.
Oh my, I say, rolling my eyes. Fine, let’s get you delicate flowers back inside then.
Ugh. Ok, I’m feeling some guilt here. Not so much as I’ll feed them an extra meal or something. But watching the poor furries lift their cold, cold paws from the snow has tugged my maternal heartstrings. So before we wrap up to take everybody back in, I pull off Euka’s working cape and fix a scarf about her neck.
Ok dogs, I say. We’ll give you a chance to warm your toesies and maybe we can give it another …Hey! Darn it, Micron!
|mmmmm …. snow|
The big dog has now become One with the snow. A private Zen moment with the white matter like he’s searching for some deeper meaning of it all.
Right. And then this. A whole lot of this happened next.
And yep, they’ve done it again. The clever critters.
I just don’t learn sometimes.