It's a Dog's Life

That's a special present just for Mark, who will enjoy that pun far more than is healthy.

 

Yes, we have a dog.

He's my brother's dog via my nephew, so he has a long and complicated ownership background and even now, I'm not entirely sure whose dog he is exactly. But he lives with us, and barks at things.

He freaks out the resident bush turkey and peacock, but doesn't seem inclined to actually cause them anything other than psychological harm. (I can live with that).  He also barks incessantly at any visitors, especially large males. (I can live with that as well).

He escapes every day and goes who-knows-where but usually finishes up with a nice dip in the dam (I know that because he comes home muddy). This doesn't help his tick problem which is now, by virtue of his proximity to us, our tick problem also. And tick problems are expensive problems to have. (Not so easy to live with that).

He and the boys get on quite well, though he takes a middle-aged approach to their madness and goes off to sit with his bone and quietly contemplate whatever it is that dogs contemplate.

We like him. His name is Ferdie. JMB