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Just to show how different the sexes are, no matter what the species, here are two photos of both Annie and Chasie having a nap in their worm thingy.

First Annie

Then Chasie

Now, who would be best equipped to see danger coming and react in a self preserving manner?

Habibti decided to make a Banana Tarte Tatin last night and aside from the initial muddy sludge looking caramelised sugar it turned out damn fine. Not sure where in the pyramid this would fall, but I’ll do a Tarte Tatin supper any time.

As you can see, the excitement was almost too much to bare.

Just Annie in a box, not much more to say.

Habibti is experiencing a painful red tide this morning so I pootled off to walk the two bitches in rolling mist while she stayed in bed with her NBF. Before that I was listing to “The Waterboys – A rock in the weary land”, a LP that I haven’t heard before. One line in “The Charlatan’s lament” really hooked me and has been in my mind ever since:

By dawn’s empty light I cried to no-one at all

How many people are there that feel this every day? No matter how complicated and hard things may seem in any given moment my life rocks. It’s about perspective and appreciation.

Now onto Shitpark, there has been an increase of people who don’t pick up after their dogs and it’s driving me insane. I live graphic fantasies while I slalom through piles of shit trying to identify the steaming blobs of my charges. I dry heave as I wrap my hand in little blue bags and scoop, but I do it none the less. It’s not hard, just a moment of throwing up into my own mouth and tears streaming down my face when Bayla has a nervous tummy. When I see piles of shit next to the slide and swings I imagine myself sitting on a vantage point with a sniper rifle and taking out the fuckers that don’t pick up. I imagine myself following the guilty home with bags of ignored shit and throwing it at their front doors or smearing it over the door handles of their cars.

that this is becoming a site about our animals. That’s all I seem to write about these days, and 99.9% of my photos are of the menagerie. Am I turning into one of those people in my old age? Are the only things that I can talk about our pets and my itinerant bowl movements and the damn weather? Well, till something better comes up, here is another photo. This is Chasie (Charlie).