Where's Lucy?

Last weekend, Lucy got a haircut. And now she can more accurately model her second new sweater (accurately meaning: she doesn’t have tufts of hair poking out at all angles underneath it).

I put it on her, looked at Earl and said, “But where’s Waldo?”

Here you can see that she's trying to blend in with the stripes on the duvet - obviously the whole dogs being color blind is true.

So, she’s my dog, and thereby I often find myself saying: “OMG, YOU ARE TOO CUTE” as I fluff up her face and she gives me a look akin to wondering why those nice men haven’t carted me off to the nice hospital off Vanburen that has two fences surrounding the grounds (yes, the loony bin).

One of those things that just makes me want to hug her until she squishes is how much she loves the Yoga mat. I think it’s because it’s squishy under her feet, but I can’t be sure. What’s awesome is when she stretches on it and Earl or I catch it and accuse her of doing downward or upward dog. She just shakes it off, hops on the couch and looks at us as though she’s trying to decide if it shouldn’t warrant a treat.