Boy, he’s got the snotty teenager look down pat!!!

I speak as a parent who survived two teenagers (now 20 & 22). Within the last two weeks, EACH of them thanked me for being a good mom & putting up with them during their teenage years. Also each expressed gratitude for my being a Grammar Nazi.

{{{{{{Beckham!!!}}}}}}} I love the fact that you said “Here’s YOUR dogs.” Yep…they’re ours….but we won’t help pay for food and vet bills. Heh. So glad you got to go watch your daughter play in Phoenix. Go Casey!

Fenway, why don’t you destroy your own bowl? Hmmmph. Kidz.

aw…just clicked on the Beckham thumbnail for the full meal deal. He’s becoming Mr. Cuddles in his ‘old’ age.

Fenway definitely has that look down perfectly… i would know

I’d sleep in the doggy bed, too, if I could have those ears to wrap around me.

Another interpretation of Fenway’s “accident” would be that he’s saying “Home again! Yaaaay! The Good Place! I am soooo happy that I literally cannot contain myself for joy!!!”

Of course, we’re the kind of soft-hearted idiots whose response to living with an elderly girl dog with chronic bladder problems, a teenage boy dog who dribbles at both ends when he gets excited, and a neutered-too-late male dog whose greatest non-food-related delight is to drag the sherpa lump known as ‘Zevon’s humpy pillow’ into the People Bed when we’re not there to discourage him… has been to invest in several top-quality waterproof mattress protectors and a washer big enough to handle king-sized mattress pads. I did try pointing out that ‘normal’ people would probably just lock the dogs out of the bedroom, but the Spousal Unit argued that half the joy of living with toy dogs is falling asleep with a furry little lump warming one’s toys or cuddled against one’s spine.

Sleeping in the dog’s bed is better than being in the doghouse, though.

I once went to pick up by brother’s Lab from the “Spa” when he was delayed in returning home. Bro had described to me how PO’d Misty was when she had to sleep away from home, but the reality was hysterical. This normally friendly, frisky dog would not acknowledge me, wouldn’t even look at me. So in the car I’m reminding her that I had nothing to do with this, that in fact I was rescuing her. She sat in the back seat of the car staring out of the window with a look that said “STFU, or I’ll kill you”.

Bro sezs it takes about a day or so at home of freezing the entire family out before she returns to normal.

Your recent pictures of Beckham looking genial are positively Satchmolean. I am starting to believe in channeling.

I hope the boys never adopt my Arthur’s habit, when forced to stay at sleepover camp, of refusing to go toity altogether. When we get home, he’s outside for about half an hour. Exactly like a little boy confronted with his first public restroom….

Hey there, Mr. Basset! Is this a viable product for doggies like yours?
http://www.dogboneinc.com/index.html

I ended sleeping on… Fenway’s bed, which is the the big shearing one upon which I spent many nights sleeping with Satchmo during his last days. Beckham joined me there and it was like old times.

I happen to surf by to see the doggies and I read this and my heart breaks. I am still missing my little one.

TBogg is in the doghouse, Mrs. TBogg is sleeping on a couch, and it is all the dog’s fault. Tell it to a marriage counselor.

My husband slept downstairs with our 18 year old kitty in her last days as well. He’d never had a pet in his life and it took finally living with her to totally fall in love, and then they were best buds for 15 years.

You do your best for them in their last days, and I think they know it. Still hurts like a MF, even with this much time. I feel for all the Tbogg family; this stuff is hard.