This is the second – or maybe third – visit to the puppies. I took G once (just for his own edification and education), so that counts as one. So this is the one after that. Which makes it the third?
(By the way, may I say – though you may think it petty of me – that I have decided I do not want to pay taxes anymore? I paid them in April. But we had to take an extension and just found out yesterday that we owed 5k more. Then they sent me a letter today telling me I need to pay them 13K more on top of that (WHA????) and gave me reasons that no one on earth could possibly have understood, even if they weren’t the kind of person who gets deep anxiety and perhaps unconsciousness after reading the first two lines of any formal looking form. I pay people to read these things for me. Or I pay people to undo the damage reading these things does to me. Six of one. Whatever, the point is, I don’t feel like paying the government anymore. I don’t even like the product we’re getting from them these days. Who else in the world gets to say, “You owe me this much, regardless of the product we’re putting out,” and back it up with, “Or I’ll throw you in prison, take all your stuff and you can just get old in the poorhouse – even if we’re wrong, which you will never know if you don’t pay somebody pretty much as much as we want from you to find out.”
Did I make myself clear on that? It’s just not fun anymore.)
Back to the point, this is the whatever number visit we have paid to these poor puppies. The visit when my camera settings were all wrong, and I couldn’t figure that out either. But it’s good, because I don’t have to process any of these bad shots in Photoshop, because it wouldn’t help if I did. So I can do this faster. Can you tell that I am doing this faster?
Back to the point I went back to above: the third visit to:
whose children are ALL OVER THE PLACE. (bigger now, huh?)
Not even I, the meanest of all mothers, Aunt Ogre, the terror of English classes everywhere, could help her. (I am usually not this pale. This wide. But not this pale.)
This is JoJo Lindstrom of Sweet Spot Farms (specializing in children, puppies and Ponies of America – which are the spotted kind of ponies). Remember that this is the third visit, and thus I am going to tell you that the puppy gamboling on the sidewalk is the puppy we are fast beginning to think of as “my” puppy.
Here, “my” puppy threatens to eat Chaz.
Which is odd, because she is commonly beloved of all dogs everywhere. Just look at the guys she dates. (I do not wish to insult Abby by suggesting that she is a guy. Because she isn’t.)
Here is “my” puppy, demonstrating that he is, in fact, knee high to a four year old.
Here, “my” puppy is threatening to gnaw upon the scruffy little black runt of the family. (Brave puppy—) First he picks on girls, then this sweet little guy—
Who immediately climbs up into Chaz’ lap with the intention of making it clear that we actually need to start thinking of him as “her” puppy.
After which he climbs into MY (evidently solarized) lap to reinforce the point.
“My” puppy loves me. You can tell, can’t you?
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