Silent Sunday

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Market Day!

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You’ll Get the Hang of it

Hey, Winston. Come here.


You didn’t finish telling your story the other day. When you took over the blog and showed a picture of my foot. In a splint. With ice on it. In that blue towel.


You’re supposed to finish telling the story.

But I said it wasn’t my fault. That’s about it.

Well, no, not really. The world doesn’t revolve around you my precious boy.

I’m not quite sure what that means, but as long as I’m in the clear, there’s not much else to tell. Besides, if it doesn’t have to do with me, then it doesn’t really matter. Right?

We’ll see what happens after I visit the orthopedic specialist tomorrow. Maybe you’ll have a new picture to post.

Why? Is your foot going somewhere? That’d be terrible because then I wouldn’t be able to bite your feet while I chase them. Because you’d be one less foot to bark at. That’d be just awful. I love doing that! But, remember, I didn’t make you hurt your foot. You did that all by yourself while I did what you told me. And watched. You told me to sit and stay. And that’s what I did.

Oh boy. You’ll get the hang of this story telling thing one day. Until then, you’d better stay away from my crutches.

Friends, seems like we’ve been here before. As some of you have pointed out.



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Stay tuned. Winston will have to figure how to tell stories.


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Oh Boy

Now I know why Angel Stuart had a blog. Maybe one day it’ll be mine, but for the moment, I’m taking it over.

Angel Stuart was wise. He knew that 2-legged folks do some strange things. These things made good stories. I hope my stories are as good as his were.

So here goes. Take a look at these things:

They are called legs. No. Crutches. That’s what they are. Now take a look at this:

It wasn’t my fault. Promise.

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Road Trip!

What’s taking you guys so long? Thought we were ready to go!!!

I love a road trip. I think. Yeah, I do love going places with you guys.

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Let the Fun Begin

Oh boy. When we least expected it, looks like our house will soon be sold.

At some point last year, when it was first on the market, our realtor said, “you should get a dog.”

That was because every time we took care of Sniglet or Sherlock, we had really good showings.

Now here we are facing renting a small apartment while looking for just the right place to buy. Moving twice. Ugh.

Winston, hang on to your harness, ’cause we may be in for a bumpy ride! (The Dad Peep and I are very excited about this new chapter in our lives. Especially with Winston by our sides)

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Hoppy Easter

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