|I've got my eye on you|
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
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.
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|
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.