As you may or may not recall, last year we had a little incident where Fenway managed to make his way up onto the roof. Today mrs tbogg was preparing to go up on the deck for a little sunbathing, left the door open, and… yeah. He did it again. It took the two of us going out to get him (keeping in mind that mrs tbogg is so afraid of heights that she walks down the middle of piers), a few tiles were broken, but we reeled him in again.

We’re like the worst pet owners ever.

On the plus side he seemed suitably chastened and spent the rest of the afternoon up there with her (on the deck, not the roof) baking in the sun.

Unfortunately, no pictures taken again ("Just wait there while I go grab my camera honey! I’m sorry? — Do what to myself?") which is probably just as well for when one of the neighbors calls the authorities.  So instead here’s a picture I recently received from Gene Lyons of basset Fred hanging out with four month-old Buster the cow. Or bull. Or whatever.

fred-n-buster.jpg

So that’s what a working basset looks like. At least he’s suitably on the ground. Or hay. Or whatever.