That’s the same grill he marked as his the first time he was brought over to our house. He still lets me use it sometimes, but he never offers to get more propane. I think he just likes to have a meat-scented bed. I would like that too.When the vet wanted to know when his birthday was I just gave him mine. I really wasn’t using it. I had already asked Oso when his birthday was before we got to the vet’s office, but he just looked at me like this:
He looks very confused. I asked him in my terrible Spanish, so it’s entirely likely he is thinking “What’s a kay-annoe?” or “I’ve been adopted by an imbecile.” In my defense it’s equally likely he’s thinking “Walk me.”I have a love-hate relationship with how focused he gets on the squirrels and birds in our yard. Barking up a storm at 6:00 AM is embarrassingly rude to our neighbors, and he runs away from me if I try to make him go in the house. But on a Saturday afternoon there’s nothing more entertaining than a doggy-daddy-daughter squirrel hunt!
Since the landscaping in the back yard Oso has become a master night time hunter of snails. He chases the bugs, and occasionally regrets catching a bee. These are pictures of Oso being allowed in the newly landscaped backyard for the first time:
Very cute, but this one has it beat by a mile:
For a long time Yarden couldn’t manage to pull herself into his bed. Now she loves it. And when she was smaller it was fine. But these days I try to keep her out, at least while he’s in it, because trying to share a bed with Yarden has evolved into a full contact sport and she doesn’t believe in any rules. Aliyah’s got the scratched cornea to prove it. Thank you again to everyone who made it possible for Oso to come to us. I asked him to thank you himself, but all he said was “grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrras-see-us,” whatever that means.
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