This conversation, which passes for hawt sexytime talk when you’ve been married for more than twenty five years, led us both to admit that, although we both miss Beckham terribly, the Fenway/Wembley Axis of Puppiness has made the loss easier to live with than I would have thought. Needless to say, we both feel very guilty about this so we’re thinking about becoming Catholic or Jewish, whichever one will have us, so it won’t go to waste.

I didn’t have anything good this week, so this will have to do

This is why Jeebus makes them cute. So we don’t kill them.

Wembley has been losing teeth all over the place but, as you can see, he has plenty of others. I’m not sure what is up with Fenway’s put-upon look in the top picture.

Wembley will be five months old this coming Tuesday and he is a well proportioned five-month-old at twenty-nine pounds. He’s gonna be a big’un.

Double click him to embig’un him yourself.

(Cameo appearance by Fenway and his very active tail.)

Basset posts will probably be later going forward  what with the time change and the nice(r) weather which allows us to take the boys for a walk around the bay in the evenings.

Fenway had a close encounter of the possum kind the other night when I took him out. Moonless and dark as hell, he paused by some ferns and  stood stock-still just staring into the blackness and I thought he was just peeing. But then a car came around the corner and the headlights showed that he was in a face-off with a possum that was baring its sharp pointy teeth less than a foot away from Fenway’s snout. It was like one of those scary movies when lightning lights the room and you see THE BAD THING that you couldn’t see in the dark… but in this case it was a possum which isn’t really that scary at all even if you made a movie and called it Night of The Possums.

I guess you had to be there.

Whatevs…

Well, Earth shook us like an English nanny today causing Mrs TBogg to leap and grab the flatscreen so that it didn’t fall and crush the dogs, Fenway to jump up on the back of the love seat and bark out the window, and Wembley…. to do nothing. Since our home is built on a slight hill and is three stories, our place got waved in the air like the planet don’t care and it wasn’t particularly fun. But all is well and we are back to being our usual coastal elitist selves.

Ha ha, trailer parks and tornadoes. Losers.

Here is Wembley who is not only getting large but is largely oblivious.