Salty Dogs

I'm going to follow in TK's lead, mostly because I haven't posted all week and I'm sick of looking at that fucking plate.

These are the Salty Dogs. And before anyone makes any dipshit jokes -- the fisherman came with the house. Dammit. As to why anyone would have thought a giant nautical themed statue would make an appropriate addition to a cabin in the woods of Eastern Pennsylvania is anyone's best guess. But we decided to keep him anyway.

Moving on! This is Sophie -- a full bred Australian Shepherd. Sophie in a nutshell, is pretty much the awesomest dog ever. We're talking Lassie or Rin Tin Tin quality of dog, here. She has an uncanny knack at following verbal instructions, even if they're spoken in an offbeat, "Sophie, be a pal and go lay down over there" kind of way. Unfortunately for Mr. Salty she only follows my verbal commands, so after getting ignored while pleading with her to do something, he'll usually ask me to grace her with a request, to which she always immediately complies. She also catches frisbees like a pro.

Here she is blending in. I think she thinks she's a lioness...

And here she is enjoying the bed of her human counterparts, per usual.

Ivy is a Pitty Bull/Boxer mixed breed. She's very, very naughty and will often do things such as munch on plants and throw them up all over the house, or run away in the middle of a snowstorm so I get my car stuck in a snow embankment trying to retrieve her. But she makes up for her naughty behavior by being extremely patient and mild mannered, as evidenced by these photos.

"Take this fucking thing off me." Playing dress-up in Mommy's old tank top.

I like to refer to this as her "Mr. Burns" pose because she reminds me of that time Marge painted Mr. Burns naked. I swear we feed her.