Number of monster turkey vulture buzzards circling: 1 (K – time out – what in the name of craziness is a buzzard doing in my parent’s backyard? We live WAYYYYY inside the city limits.)
Number of dead opossums in next door neighbors front yard attracting monster buzzards: 1 (Go figure. I guess you can get a vulture anywhere you want to if you have a big enough dead animal laying around.)
Number of large rats currently inhabiting our pool area, taking vacations into the house, and trying to break into the dog food containers: 1 (This rat was not around when we left for maine on tuesday. We recently had a lot of yard work done and think he probably had his little habitat destroyed somewhere in the yard. Awesome.)
Number of overweight, non-sporting breed dogs who are traumatized by the scent of the dead opossum, the circling vulture with a wingspan of more than six feet over head, and the fat rat invading their territory and trying to steal their precious puppy chow: 3 (counting Scooter – the neighbor’s dog).
Number of fat, happy dogs who slept like it was their job after their tough day in the wild, a bath, and new clean beds: 2
Someone I find very intriguing asked me one time what kind of animal I would be if I had the choice to be any animal. I’d like to be someone’s favorite pet dog with a big backyard, maybe some dog buddies, a big warm bed, and lots of stuffed animals to chew on and play with. Oh, and it would be nice if they would take me to run with them sometimes, or to the beach, or the lake, or the farm, but that would just be gravy. Dogs have the life.
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