wintery sky poop: our favorite

baby beanbag’s wish for more snow was granted. she caught snowflakes on her tongue and plowed ground snow into her mouth all day yesterday. it’s all frozen to ice now, but the fluff was well enjoyed while it lasted.

let’s not pretend that i didn’t sing Frozen songs loud enough for neighbors to hear while frolicking around and throwing snowballs at Harlot’s face. trust me, she loves it.

that’s three snowfalls in the span of one winter. impressive for this side of the coast!

i can only hope for more before it’s time to make the move to the deeper south. it looks like the spuds will be making the journey with me, but Harlot continues to be threatened with a return ticket if she terrorizes our future apartment sharers. we shall see…

wasabi

lil b, feisty spud, ‘sabi, footstool; the names that i use for his precious existence are endless.

unlike the other obnoxious, but well loved idiots that make up the spud trio, Wasabi is snuggly perfection in all aspects. well, not the ten plus years of failed housebreaking, but everything else.

he loves everybody, will do anything, and is packaged in a baby lion body that makes me want to squeal with happiness at all times.

i mean, look at that, how many nuggets do you know that will perch on a post like an owl with no complaints? he is the golden child of this family, hands down. and the only reason i don’t kiss him more often is the foul smell of his breath.

it’s not his fault. he has a weird digestive system. seriously. he barfs after ingesting anything cooler than room temperature or that isn’t an unsalted cracker. he also eats chicken. but that sucker better not be chilled because picking up slimy half digested meat chunks is gross.

but like i said, he’s perfect.

sushi

he’s called sassy spud for a reason. but sometimes i call him snarky sh** face instead. he has perfected the art of coughing for attention. apparently there are more lights on upstairs than originally credited to him because after an episode of kennel cough a few years ago, he learned that making little honky noises would get everyone’s attention and sympathy. only now it’s super annoying and makes him sounds like a newborn moose.

on the continued list of things that are annoying is his horrendous b.o. it’s suppose to be some scientific fact that dogs don’t sweat, but sushi proves the professionals wrong once again. that, or he’s some freak alien posing as a friendly canine like a real life Stitch. his gross secretions of oil make him smell permanently like a fuzzy frito.

but look how cute his face is. it almost makes his insistent, snobby personality worth it. he’s the cutest turdbutt you’ve ever laid eyes on, admit it.

harlot

aka Giant Spud

my sweet little idiot angel. she is queen of frustration creation and the biggest baby that has ever come in the form of a border collie.

even though she has a boatload of hatred for any human being that looks at her, breathes, or dares move in our general direction, i love her. mostly because she is an endearingly stupid creature, like a blind sea cow with fur.

she’s really not all that stupid. she just doesn’t use her masses of brain junk to function in a socially acceptable manner, because she likes to make everything as difficult as possible.

instead she focuses her noodle juice on tasks such herding and sitting on her babycats. or the more recent favorite, opening her mouth to the ground and bulldozing across the yard so that the snow collects in her poop consumer. it makes her pee every 15 minutes, which is just another part of her maniacal plan to drive me insane.

such a lovely little spud. additionally, every person to have survived meeting her claims that she is the reincarnated soul of myself. despite me not being dead. that’s probably the biggest reason why i still love her. that, and her supremely adorable fox ears.

she’s the cat’s pajamas.