call of dooty

Tiny chumley is rapidly becoming the old gent of our neighborhood, surrounded by big, rambunctious yearling pups full of youthful - and perhaps what he likes least -  unpredictable exuberance.  The kind of exuberance that can accidentally bonk the head of an unsuspecting little wolf, or roll his sausagey body in the grass, like a tumbleweed in the wind.

There was a time not so long ago when Baxter was the dopey yearling who needed to be taught lessons on boundaries and place by the likes of Lulu and others in her generation. Now, with little white hairs migrating to his paws and slowly turning them into little white socks, it is his turn to become the teacher and pass along that knowledge.   But it is a job I know he would rather leave for another day. :)


uh, nopies mom, we do not need 2 go for walkies with either cassie or that dopey labradoodlepoodle roscoe from across the street.  besides, don't we have 2 get ready for tonitey nite's #tgidiscoFriday 11 PM EST teeny tiny doxie treasure box doot? we posted a picture of the litter and everything already. :)