Possessed by Squeaky Giraffe Spirits
I accidentally woke Hercules while he slept with his squeaky toy. I’m not quite sure what this look on his face is, but I’m definitely not touching the giraffe.
I accidentally woke Hercules while he slept with his squeaky toy. I’m not quite sure what this look on his face is, but I’m definitely not touching the giraffe.
Franzi and Rommel soaking up some rays on the back deck on a very hot, late summer day. Don't forget the sunscreen doxies!
Yesterday I spent close to 30 minutes looking for little Hercules only to find him passed out under the covers on the bed with a big doxie smile on his face.
Hercules loves nothing more than getting the cat's leftover food. Once he's cleaned the plate, he shreds it into tiny pieces and leaves it for me to clean up.
An old photo when my pack were all still babies, sitting on the bed enjoying the late afternoon sunlight. Monkey somehow got the rawhide, which never happens.
I told Hercules the dog treat bag was empty, but, based on the look on his face, I can tell that he doesn't believe me.
Monkey loved the penguin blanket because none of the other Doxies in the pack ever wanted it. He'd drag it around and burrow into it knowing he'd be left alone.
It didn't take Hercules long to become a master manipulator. For being barely four months old, he sure has that "I'm just a poor sad puppy" down pretty well.
The one advantage to puppies over human babies is that after 15 minutes of super-activity, instead of crying, puppies just sort of fall over and sleep. Hard.
Hercules has figured out how to sit on the back of the couch, but he hasn't figured out how to hop off. Instead, he sort of oozes down the cushion to the floor