Today, he ups the ante, raises the bar, and is just generally bewildering. Because what better place to snooze on one of the hottest afternoons of the year than while squeezed between two garbage cans? And nuzzling a dirty old broom. Full disclosure: the garbage cans are empty so this is not as smelly and moronic as it looks. And his paws appear to be crossed in an aristocratic manner.
Following in the master's footsteps, Mr. D. goes for under-the-old-step-bench, next to the dirty shovel, the weed eater and the rake.
Miss H. proves that she is the brains of this operation by basking in the comfortable shade, with no garbage or tools in sight. I would like to draw a thought bubble over her head. It would say "Boyz is dumb."
1 comment:
miss h roques
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