Happy 1st Birthday, Maggie! (Margret, Mrs. Thatcher for short)

And YES, she listens to all her names. But she knows, when we call her Margret, she's done something bad.

As I'm writing this post, Maggie is sleeping under my desk, bringing tears to my eyes. It's not because I'm sentimental, or moved by time going by so fast. No, it's because she's blowing wind, sounds and smells coming from her belly, after she ate, God knows how many, apples from the ground outside in our backyard. She's putting members of the skunk family to shame, and she's not even trying.
Meanwhile the boys, one on each side of the room, have their noses pressed to the screen, of open windows (Coincidence? I think not!). I feel like getting up, and joining them, if it were not for the hot air coming in, and foul smells, and hot air, don't do it for me either. So lets be brave and move on.


(Last time we saw Happy between her ears, this time ...)

Maggie's one year old, and with us almost as long. She's a petite dog, but well proportioned. She's a weird dog, with lots of personality. I'm glad she's with us, and that she's got her own quirks.


(tired after running like the energizer bunny) (Denny made this bed of towels for her, but why sleep on a sofa, when you get a place like that to sleep on?)




(What? Don't you know there's nothing better than leaning on a chair?)



(She just loves leaning. I Love them both.)



That's her, telling us, "Throw the freaking ball!" Totally obsessed she is.

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It's also Thanksgiving Day today, and there's Turkey in the oven, there will be yams, and Apple Pie (made from scratch, no yucky filling from the can).

Hope you are all having a wonderful Monday!

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