Sunday, March 18th

This is the scene every night in this house, starting at about 6:50. We feed the dogs at 7; usually not too much later but definitely not earlier, because this is what they look like and we somehow think that feeding them when they start begging will only encourage them to start begging even earlier. And as funny as this looks, it’s also kind of creepy to be stared at like that. Oh, puppies.

And you can’t see in the picture, but Backup Dog (the smaller brown one, if you’re new here) is drooling. There’s usually a puddle in front of her by the time the dish shows up.

In case you’re wondering what’s with the large mess of carpet/blanket there; we used to have a dog bed, but Tim’s cat liked to pee in it. We went through two beds before giving up and just putting an old blanket and the cover from the second bed (washed, of course) on the floor. Now Old Dog can’t stand up on her own very well on the slick floors, so we put a thick rug down underneath it, and she loves it because she can get purchase on it and stand up after a nap without her back legs slipping out from underneath her.

I swear her getting old is worse on me than it is on her. She’s still goofy and happy, even when she’s walking and scratching herself with her hind leg at the same time — she doesn’t stop walking and then acts all surprised (well, she’s not very bright, so maybe she IS surprised) when she is scratching with one back leg, goes to take a step, and collapses because hey, both back legs off the ground! Sigh.