So, this Saturday night while being a bit frisky, I almost broke Sweety's leg. He was laying down and I was doing a position move and sat down on the bed and also squarely on his knee. We heard it crunch. That totally killed the mood. It's still hurting him. Whenever I try to touch him now he cowers down and cries. Eh, he'll get over it. You can replace knees, right? He needs to get himself a nice titanium one.
My little dog is growing up. Here she is about a year ago.
A dainty, well-mannered canine.
A wall eating, head humping character.
She's got white, bushy, old-man eyebrows now and a beard. I'm thinking of coloring her hair with a permanent marker. That shirt in the top photo? Gone. She ate it.