pre-blizzard

As much as I scoff at snow rumors -- always delivered by overexcited weathermen who look like they're skating at supersonic speed on meth -- there is, apparently, a blizzard-like something-or-other headed toward my little slice of neighborhood. In anticipation, I have buried a number of bones in the backyard, using my formidable snout to pack the ground over them. I have every hope that in the spring, there will be bone trees, where pizzles drop like overripe lemons and the bark smells faintly of poo and rawhide. Until then, I hibernate.

laundry day

starsky

baby, it's cold outside

I am officially registering my dissatisfaction with the current weather, as it has a tendency to freeze my paws (well, it also makes poo nicely crisp, but that's not compelling enough to venture outside), and also causes Minion to get terribly cabin feverish and try out new ways to make me look like I'm fleeing the Germans during WWII.

adieu, sweetest minion

On Friday, one of my most beloved minions -- she of the Hopkins Minion Outpost -- died in a tragic, heartbreaking accident, and all I can say is that I'll miss her very deeply. Rogene was always blessedly kind, and beautiful, and sweet, and nearly always let me lick her lipstick off as she was laughing, which still makes E.minion smile when she thinks about it. Safe passage home, Ro.