Me and My Family of Dogs

When it comes to my dogs, it’s safe to say that I go the extreme in making them part of the family. My family of dogs usually comes first when it comes to what they need, want, etc. I talk to them constantly (which has given them an extensive vocabulary; both good news and bad). I’m always fussing with their blankies, covering them up, uncovering them, making sure they’re warm but not too warm. Mr. Susan says my dogs are my dollies. He’s right.

 

Chuck, Tofu, me, Mouse and T.

We’re in the middle of major packing, and it’s creating havoc. We’ve had workers in the house, getting it ready to sell. There are boxes, bubble wrap, and paper everywhere. My dogs are, of course, freaking out.

And then there are my grand-dogs. Well, Tofu is ┬ámy grand-dog (believe me when I say that five years ago, I wouldn’t be caught dead using that phrase, but…everything changes). Chuck Mantooth is my honorary step-dog, and I’m going to miss them a ton. (I mean, I’ll miss my kid, of course, and I’ll miss Travis and I’ll really really really miss seeing them in their new love, growing together and becoming a couple. I’m really sad about missing that, but that’s another post.)

Anyway, we had no power yesterday. Yeah. And there was lots of hammering and drilling and, rightfully so, Mouse and T were in the heights of Stranger Danger, where everything except me was the Stranger. So I got them in the bye-bye car and went over to my kid’s house, to visit with Tofu and Chuck. OF COURSE I brought my good camera; phone pics wouldn’t do for what may be the last time I and my family of dogs would hang alone, with no people around.

Most of the shots are fuzzy because, dogs. But I used the self-timer to get this one, and I love it. That’s Chuck Mantooth (we just call him Chuck) on the left, then Tofu, then me in the middle, and finally Mouse and T. They’d don’t always get along when we all hang together (especially the three male dogs; they don’t fight exactly, but they do this “chuff” sound to assert something over the others, and it becomes an endless cacophony of “chuff, chuff, chuff”, while silent Mouse realizes that as female, she need make no sound to assert that she is boss).

(Note for my kid and Travis: they have a great house, they have great taste. The pictures on the wall aren’t that crooked, I was using my super wide lens so everything is distorted. And the shoes on the floor? Well, fuck, it’s their house; mine is worse.)

 

 

 

 

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