Holy CR@P!

First off, I just now realized that I have hit 50 blog posts. This will be #51. Wow.

On another note... Our cute furbaby, Bernie, is apparently getting up there in years. Keith and I estimate his age to be, eh, about 15 years or so... but anyway, Keith went running earlier today, took Mr. B with him. By the end of the run (a couple of miles at least, mind you) B was running behind his daddy today during their semi-weekly run. BEHIND.

This is the same dog that I had nicknamed "Firecracker" a couple of years ago because of the way he pulled on the leash when we walked him. I opted to take his now-deceased brother, Yankee, because Bernie pulled so much on the leash- he was the type of dog who walked you, not the normal, other way around. We estimate this mutt (probably a Lab/Pit-Bull mix) to be around 15 years old, pretty old for a dog, let alone a Lab.

Then it dawned me, as DH and I drove to the pizza parlor... Yankee, his late (labrador) brother, slowed down like this probably less than a year before he passed away (a couple of months, roughly, before DH and I got married). Uggggh... I'm not a HUGE dog lover but as much as this guy (like his bro) is a pain in the @$$ I still love him...

I just hope that Bernie, well, I know this will sound/be selfish, but I hope he is still around this time next year! With what is happening with him (vs. his bro) who know but only our Good Lord.. but yikes. I hate to think about how much, or little, time this guy has before he goes Home.

Crazy, Crazy...

So I was sitting in here getting ready to log off my computer when I heard a strange noise coming from behind me. At first it sounded like someone was sort of "handling" the exercise ball but I soon realized that the closet door was open. Then the noise became clear- a cat scratching! I saw Keely sitting on the floor looking into the closet and soon after that Lizzie darted out- after scratching on the leftover carpet DH stashed in there.

Turkeys.

And Lizzie's the Drame Queen of the duo. As in, she'll DIE if she doesn't get outside at this minute because there's a monster, in the very closet she just darted out of, that will eat her. It will pop out of the attic opening, come down and swoop her back up there, to its little, secret cave. That would explain the urgent need to sharpen her claws IN THERE, right?

Then she has to come back in here and literally climb the ladder sitting behind me (which we've been too lazy to put away) to sit on top of the book case, presumbaly to guard me. How sweet of her...

Whoops, she just jumped down and ran out of here again... she must have seen IT again.