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Poor furries
Sep. 11th, 2005 12:35 pmHubby has been working outside with the weed whacker for an hour, completely traumatizing the dogs.
One's hiding under my desk, trying to ignore the world. She's got a tennis ball, so of course, she's protected against anything up to and including sniper fire.
Our basset (moving at the speed of smell) has crossed the living room and is now lying on the sofa, moaning and whining while he eyes me, begging for an ear rub. When his whining gets to ultra high frequency modulations, I'll give in and rub his ears - until then, he's quite the entertainment this afternoon.
The third is napping on the other side of the house, though I'm not entirely sure our Glory (she's geriatric and deaf) even knows what's going on outside. So she may be blessedly oblivious to the horror and devestation going on outside.
However, on a brighter note - hubby found out we can spy on the rabbits out in the orchard from our master bathroom. Typically when I come by to check on them they go quiet and look at me sideways - very similar I'm sure to how I treated my parents when they looked in the door of my bedroom when I was a teenager. "Nothing to see, keep moving".
And before someone asks - the only reason I didn't notice the above is that unlike the hubby, I don't generally stand in the bathtub with my face placed against the corner window while hunching down to see under the apple trees through the other window (our tub is in a corner in a sort of garden tub arrangment). Why hubby tried this is beyond me, but I'm definately adding it to the house tour for torture purposes!
There's a similar gaffe we play on folks when its their first time on the ferry crossing to the island. We make them scrunch down and put thir ears against the solid railing on the upper picklefork deck so they can "hear the whale song". This works, because as we all know, the ferry's shape, design and structure works like a giant stereo speaker to pick up the vibrations of whale song miles away - we'll do this when you come visit the island. And when you look up at us confused, whining about how you cannot hear the whales - the entire population of the ferry will laugh at you, while we slap you on the back and welcome you to the island.
Must remember to do this to my Dad when he's visiting and after he's had a few beers, which is generally - all the time. Which is rather handy, don't you think?
One's hiding under my desk, trying to ignore the world. She's got a tennis ball, so of course, she's protected against anything up to and including sniper fire.
Our basset (moving at the speed of smell) has crossed the living room and is now lying on the sofa, moaning and whining while he eyes me, begging for an ear rub. When his whining gets to ultra high frequency modulations, I'll give in and rub his ears - until then, he's quite the entertainment this afternoon.
The third is napping on the other side of the house, though I'm not entirely sure our Glory (she's geriatric and deaf) even knows what's going on outside. So she may be blessedly oblivious to the horror and devestation going on outside.
However, on a brighter note - hubby found out we can spy on the rabbits out in the orchard from our master bathroom. Typically when I come by to check on them they go quiet and look at me sideways - very similar I'm sure to how I treated my parents when they looked in the door of my bedroom when I was a teenager. "Nothing to see, keep moving".
And before someone asks - the only reason I didn't notice the above is that unlike the hubby, I don't generally stand in the bathtub with my face placed against the corner window while hunching down to see under the apple trees through the other window (our tub is in a corner in a sort of garden tub arrangment). Why hubby tried this is beyond me, but I'm definately adding it to the house tour for torture purposes!
There's a similar gaffe we play on folks when its their first time on the ferry crossing to the island. We make them scrunch down and put thir ears against the solid railing on the upper picklefork deck so they can "hear the whale song". This works, because as we all know, the ferry's shape, design and structure works like a giant stereo speaker to pick up the vibrations of whale song miles away - we'll do this when you come visit the island. And when you look up at us confused, whining about how you cannot hear the whales - the entire population of the ferry will laugh at you, while we slap you on the back and welcome you to the island.
Must remember to do this to my Dad when he's visiting and after he's had a few beers, which is generally - all the time. Which is rather handy, don't you think?
