Home sick today, and finally made it out to the living room for a bit, where Tango insists on sharing the couch with me.
He just laid on the remote control, and I think he may have ordered a movie on demand.
With his butt.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
That Goes Where?
You want to give Tango a big fat shot in his thigh? Sure, go ahead... No problem.
Take his temperature? Oh, HELL no!
Saturday, January 8, 2011
The Great Christmas Toy Massacre of 2010
Tango and Lugnut got approximately 2,300 (okay, 8) new toys for Christmas.
Within 20 minutes of being gifted with these mint-condition stuffed toys, each one had been desecrated in some way - decapitation, amputation, evisceration, disembowelment...
Watching it all go down was kind of like watching the devastation caused by the crashing of the Hindenburg. I mean, if the Hindenburg had been piloted by a tiny, sadistic, one-eyed Captain with an underbite, and a big, handsome but kinda slow flight attendant, and the passengers were an otter, a pig, two chipmunks, a fawn, a fish, a flamingo and a green lobster. But, you get the gist.
A partial view of the devastation:
Gaze upon the destructor.
If you approach him now, he will cut you. And he won't remember it tomorrow.
His head is a blur from whipping around trying to decide what to wreak havoc upon next.
New favorite toy? The Claw, severed from the sad green lump in the background that used to by Mr. Lobster, the passenger in C10.
Good sweet pretty fluffy white dog who stared on in horror at the devastation occurring around him. He didn't do nothing wrong. He was just manning the drink cart, folks...
It's Really More of a Don't-Claw
When dewclaws go bad...
Final score? Chain-link fence at the dog park - 1.
Tango's left front dewclaw - 0.
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