A nice shot of Megan standing guard over the spot where she'd buried the latest raw-bone when we were visted by Asbo at the weekend. We're not very subtle, we dogs, so we stand where we "never stand" in the garden for any other reason, and it's obvious (apparently) to humans where we've buried the bone, even though we try to look nonchalant
And it's no good Dad slipping off to Citroen Car Club, and pretending it's all innocent car people. We could smell the new Labradoodle Pippa, of the old Austin-Seven restoring couple Dick and Molly. 6 months old and full of puppy bounce, she had the body of a golden lab, but the longer snout of the poodle, and starting to get the rougher poodle coat. She fell in love with Dad and tried to stick her tongue down his ear, much to the amusement of the rest of the pub.
Nice walk in the Rec tonight, and much throwing and retrieving of the yellow frisbee, plus we met up with westies Misha and Jack, of Mick-the-Chammy fame. We love those dogs and much gossip is exchanged before we are dragged off in separate directions. Dad nearly wins 4-nil (instead of 3-3) when Misha decides to come home with us, and only Jack follows Mick home!
Deefs
