Camp Canine, Counting the Hours

until their parents come get them. Damn. I've gotten so little done the last couple of days, because everywhere I go I am followed by a canine entourage, especially the big one who has to sigh heavily outside the door if I go to the bathroom without her. (The bathroom is too small to let her in, unless I want to hold her on my lap, which I do not.)




Murphy would like you to know that he is officially too old for this shit. He's tired. Everybody's tired - even Layla of the Endless Energy is wearing out. Murphy is tired of standing by to make sure games don't get out of hand. Layla doesn't understand that when she grabs Sophie gently by the neck, her idea of gentle isn't all that gentle, and Sophie screams, and Murphy rushes over to see what's wrong, and I yell "Hey!" and leap up, and Layla wags an apology, and...20 minutes later does it again.

Sophie really wants to play with her, but it's a lot like sticking her head in the lion's mouth when the lion doesn't realize that her "love bites" are scary.



She's a big, gentle goofy girl, and the little ones boss her and take her crate and her chewy.





We did have a scary moment this morning, when the neighbors' lawn service guys arrived, with their Big Scary Mowers.



Dudley is not a fan of anything big and noisy - thunderstorms, fireworks, garbage trucks, vacuum cleaners - and lawn guys with those big growly machines are SCARY!

I like it when they wear out for an hour.



We will all be watching for their parents this time tomorrow.