It's winter here now.
There's frost on the grass and every morning, the birds perch noisily in the bare peach tree waiting for me to come out and feed them.
Poor Hamlet must watch them cavorting from inside the slider. His tail twitches and every now and then he reaches out a paw to touch the glass in frustration.
I point out to him that his food bowl is full and he had a bite of tuna from Hub Man's sandwich making this morning, so he had better control himself.
For those of you who signed up for the Dear Diary Really Real Traveling Journal project, I have a request. If you know someone who would be interested who doesn't necessarily read this diary, please feel free to let them know about it. There are spots still open and it would be nice to have as many participate as possible.
Right now the Journal is in transit to its next contributor.
After almost deciding to take a break from dog hunting at the pound, I looked yesterday, and found an Australian Shepherd had come in on Sunday. I can't go see her until Tuesday when they will be open. I know, there is no backbone to my resolutions.
I leave you today with words from our very own Little Red Hen:
[album 65561 GoofyHen2.JPG]
"What is all this
talk about dogs?
Will this animal do any actual
WORK around here?
I'm going to need to see
some paperwork on this."